


But We Could Change It

by TongueTiedRaven



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: 1980s, Bill Cipher is a Jerk, Brotherly Love, Dipper is tired of Bill, Family Feels, Fiddleford is a good friend, Ford has trouble with big emotions, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mental Health Issues, Not Beta Read, Pines Family Bonding, Pines men need to learn to use their words, Portal - Freeform, Protective Ford Pines, Protective Mabel Pines, Protective Stan Pines, Reconciliation, Stanley is mostly homeless and embarrassed about it, Stanley mobile, The Journals (Gravity Falls), The Nightmare Realm (Gravity Falls), The Power Of Mabel, Therapy with Mabel, Time Travel, Twins, third journal, timestuck au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 82,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21701614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TongueTiedRaven/pseuds/TongueTiedRaven
Summary: Even though everything turned out mostly okay, there was no denying Weirdmeggedon had sucked. So when Mabel found a Time Tape she suggested they go back in time and... rearrange a few things. After all, nothing bad had happened with time traveling before, right? Besides, it wouldn't bethathard to fix the past. They just had to stop Grunkle Ford from finishing the portal and getting sucked into it.Easy peasy lemon squeezy.Right?Yeah, like anything in Gravity Falls was ever simple.
Relationships: Dipper Pines & Ford Pines, Dipper Pines & Ford Pines & Mabel Pines & Stan Pines, Dipper Pines & Mabel Pines, Dipper Pines & Stan Pines, Fiddleford H. McGucket & Dipper Pines & Mabel Pines, Fiddleford H. McGucket & Ford Pines, Ford Pines & Mabel Pines, Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Mabel Pines & Stan Pines
Comments: 364
Kudos: 486





	1. It's gonna be a bumpy ride (But it sure beats standing still)

\-----------------------------  
-| M | A | B | E | L |-  
\-----------------------------

Mabel landed with a hard thud and that was kind of alarming. She’d never ‘landed’ before. The ground would change on occasion, but never enough that she actually fell. It was also cold. Way colder than it had been a few minutes ago.

Wow, her arm was hurting. She’d bruised it pretty badly during Weirdmeggedon. She’d kind of forgotten about it. 

She sat up and looked around. For a moment she thought she must have had her eyes closed but that wasn’t the case. The room was just dark. It was an ugly room. The walls were all drywall. No paint, no color. Just dark cardboard with weird dark stains. Bleh. The floor was concrete which explained why it hurt when she fell onto it. It was really cold too.

“What gives?” She asked out loud. She’d been outside. Standing on grass. It was summer. Mid morning. This had never happened with their previous uses of Time Tape. 

Oh. Oh no. 

She frantically looked to both her sides and realized why she felt a surge of fear and alarm. Dipper wasn’t with her. They’d been holding hands like they always did when they used Time Tape. Why weren’t they together? Had she done something wrong? Had she blanked out?

“HMMPH!”

She jumped in surprise, and maybe a little bit of fear, and looked behind her. There was a man tied to a chair about five feet in front of her. He was a broad shouldered, heavy set, man. She could see a red jacket, brown hair, and jeans. His face was covered with a blindfold and his mouth was gagged. He’d been tied with a lot of rope. It seemed a little overkill. 

Oh. He was bleeding. His jacket was open and his white shirt was stained quite heavily, not just with blood. Along his stomach there was a big red splotch and it was attention grabbing. Not in the good way.

She tilted her head and considered him. She couldn’t do anyone any good on the floor. She stood up and slung her backpack over her shoulder. At least she still had that. 

Her curiosity got the better of her within seconds. She went up to the man and frowned when he clenched his hands into fists. A cursory glance showed only one door to this room. It was to the left of them. She’d check it out in a minute. She grabbed hold of his blindfold and he flinched like she’d just slugged him. She tugged the blindfold up and felt her mouth pop open. 

She knew that face. Younger and roughed up though it was, she knew it. She loved it. It was one of her absolute favorite. It was a face that punched dinosaurs and zombies for her. 

He was less wrinkly but the face was there. He had the same scars, the same big ears, the same big nose, the same brown eyes. Currently one of those eyes was black and bruised and he also had a nasty welt on his cheek. 

He was bleeding!

She jumped back and looked down at his chest where the wound was. Stan waved his hands frantically. They were all he could really move but he was trying to move the rest of himself. 

“Hrm mm!” Oh. Right. The gag. Huh. She gave it a tug but only succeed in jerking his face.

“Sorry!” She apologized as quickly as she could and promptly clicked her mouth shut before she could add the ‘Grunkle Stan’ she wanted to. Her Grunkle was staring at her with wide, pained, terrified eyes. It made something uncomfortable and worried bloom low in her stomach. There wasn’t any recognition in his eyes. It was uncomfortably like the look he’d given her when she’d hugged him after Weirdmeggedon.

No. She promptly told herself. No time for sad thoughts. 

“Hold on a moment. I’m going to figure out how to get this thing off.” And that was rude of her. He didn’t even know who she was. “I’m Mabel by the way. Mabel P-” she went off into a raspberry sound to buy herself a second to think. “Pan.” She finally settled on. She was kind of like Peter Pan. Her whole plan had been to whisk him away to a magical land after all.

Not like this though. 

(Not alone.)

It was a well done knot and her fingers were too cold to get it undone properly. She took her backpack off and grabbed her scissors out of the front pouch. She snipped the gag off and smiled triumphantly. 

Stan spit it out and coughed violently. There was blood in his mouth and on his teeth. She took a step back in shock. Who had done this to her Grunkle? He’d never mentioned being tied to a chair and bleeding.

Granted, he’d never mentioned Ford either, but they’d grown past that, darn it. She was teaching both her Grunkles to communicate. He’d also told her about his younger days. As much as he could tell a twelve year old. She knew more than Dipper (where was he?!!) because she’d asked him more questions later. When Dipper had started hanging with Grunkle Ford she’d sought out Grunkle Stan. She’d brought him some hot chocolate and asked questions about life on the road. She’d wanted to distract him from the fact that Ford would rather hang with Dipper than him. She might have also been trying to distract herself from the fact that Dipper had wanted to hang with Ford instead of her.

Regardless of all that, she knew a few things about her young Grunkle. He had been a convict. A real one. He’d been to jail a lot, and in different countries. She could tell by the way he’d acted that they hadn’t been nice. She knew he would ‘borrow’ (or steal) money from bad people which was why he’d used so many fake names. She knew he’d been homeless and lived in the Stanley Mobile. Which was probably why no one was ever allowed to say anything bad about his car. 

“How’d ya get in here, kid? Did Damian send you?”

“I have no idea. Who is Damian?” It wasn’t technically lying. She had no idea how she got here. Technically. She’d used time tape but she should have still been in Gravity Falls. That was something she knew for certain. This wasn’t Gravity Falls. The air in Gravity Falls hummed. It made your skin spark. This air was flat and boring. 

Stan gave her an incredulous look. She’d need to do a better job with her story. 

“I woke up here.” She explained and tried to smile. It was hard to do when her poor Grunkle looked so beat up. He wasn’t really a Grunkle now. Yunkle? Nope. But just calling him Stan just didn’t feel right. 

“What was that thump?”

“Me waking up. What’s going on?”

“Listen, kid,” He glanced at the door before looking at her again. “You gotta get out of here before they come back. Leave me the scissors. I can get myself outta here.”

That wasn’t going to happen. She never left her craft supplies behind and the entire point of this trip was to find Grunkle Stan. Getting to rescue Grunkle Stan just made it more exciting.

She didn’t bother with a reply and just started to cut the rope. It wasn’t overly thick and looked like some kind of cotton. She could have made a nice rug with it and instead someone was using it to tie a person up. What a waste.

He sprang up and grabbed her shoulders. She noticed him wince as he did the motion.

“You’re bleeding.” She said it out loud because it didn’t quite seem real. Stan didn’t bleed. Stan punched things and walked away. Typically complaining about random aches and pains, but he walked away without bleeding. 

“That doesn’t matter, kid. We gotta get out of here before-” he cut himself off abruptly as the door opened up. A short, ugly man walked into the room with two big men behind him. The first man was rough and mean looking. He had dark, greased back hair, dark eyes, and a jagged scar that ran the length of his cheek. He had a huge tattoo on his neck that looked like it might be some kind of rune. 

The two men behind him were both bald. They had a lot of tattoos but theirs weren’t funny like the guys in Gravity Falls. Theirs were of demonic looking things.

“What the hell?” The short man snarled when he saw Mabel. “Who’s the kid?”

“Mabel.” She replied as cheerfully as she could. She slung her backpack over her shoulder. The bald men jolted and suddenly they had guns in their hands. 

Mabel had been in more than her fair share of dangerous situations. In the course of this summer she'd been chased by a thousand gnomes, surrounded by zombies that wanted to eat her, chased by genuine dinosaurs who also wanted to eat her, haunted and possessed by a ghost, and hunted by a group of chaos demons. She had been through a lot of crazy dangerous, life or death situations but she had never in her life had a gun pointing at her. Well. At least not one that wasn’t from the year 207̃012. It was a first, and not the good kind.

“Woah,” Stan said. He lifted his hand up in the air with a wince, “calm down. We can talk this out.”

“No. How the fuck did she get in here?”

Mabel’s eyes widened at the use of the very bad word. Stan had gone above and beyond in his efforts to filter his language. He had been quick to harp on anyone who didn’t censor themselves around her or Dipper. Including his brother. Not that anyone could understand the bad words he said. They all seemed to be in some strange alien tongue.

“What are you talking about?” Stan’s bruised brow furrowed in confusion. The two henchmen moved further into the room and aimed their guns at her Grunkle. Unacceptable. 

She reached into her pocket and suddenly the guns were pointed at her. She put on her best ‘I’m an adorable little girl who would never do anything wrong’ smile and tilted her head. The guards looked a little unnerved. They didn’t realize that they ranked very low on the list of scary things Mabel had been through. Bill had raised that bar pretty darn high.

“Damn it, Damian. She’s a kid.” Stan muttered the words. Mabel was pretty sure he’d moved closer to the chair. Their eyes were off of her for a moment. It was plenty of time for her to pull the small ball out of her pocket. She popped it open and sucked in a sharp breath.

“I don’t care. Shoot ‘em both.” Damian- who she decided she hated even though hating was wrong- snarled the words. Mabel acted at the same time as Stan. He grabbed for the chair, she held up her hand and blew. She’d had too many chances to perfect her aim. The glitter in her keychain created a cloud in front of her. All three men gasped in shock before promptly coughing. Glitter got everywhere. She knew it from experience. She also knew that they were going to find it very hard to see through the pain of it. Glitter in the eye was no joke. 

Stan brought the chair up and around on the guard nearest him. It broke as it made contact and there was a loud crack. Mabel didn’t wait to see if it worked. She pulled her favorite souvenir out of her purple sweater and aimed it at the other guard. The grappling hook hit him square in the face.

That would leave a mark.

She dropped to the ground and kicked out at Damian’s knee with all her might. Wendy had taught her that. It worked like a charm. The man screeched in pain and fell down. Stanley brought what was left of the chair down on the man’s head. It made a disturbing thud. He did the same to the guard she’d hit in the face. Her Grunkle was panting heavily and the red stain on his shirt was getting bigger.

“Nice shot, kid. What was that?”

“Glitter.” She replied cheerfully. She grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the door. They needed to get out of this room. It was ugly and he needed band aids. Possibly gauze. She’d have to see how bad it was. 

Grunkle Stan put up very little fight. He stopped long enough to grab both guns and their wallets. She didn’t approve of stealing typically, but this was her young Grunkle and he didn’t know about her feelings on that. Plus, they had been trying to shoot them. It felt justified. 

He stopped her before she could burst out of the room. He put a hand to his swollen lips in the universal signal ‘be quiet.’ She nodded her head to let him know she understood. He peered around the corner and glanced both ways. He waited a second and then gave his head a sharp nod. He motioned for her to follow him. She did quickly and quietly. They wandered down a long, depressing, hallway and made another turn. There were voices coming from down that way. Stan waved for her to go back. She did as requested and looked around. There was a window to her left that looked promising. 

“Hey!” She realized the word was too loud but volume control was always hard. Stan’s head jerked towards her. She shoved the window up and peered down. They were on the second floor. She’d gone much further.

“Are you scared of heights?” Future Grunkle Stan was mostly okay with them now but she didn’t know when it had started.

“What are you talkin’ ‘bout, kid?” He came over to where she was standing and looked down. 

“I have a grappling hook. But…” She considered him and shrugged. “I can’t hold us both but you could.” 

He looked confused. “You have a grappling hook?” 

The voices were getting louder down the hallway. It seemed to shake her Grunkle back into action. He grabbed a hold of her backpack and hefted her up to his un injured side. She latched on to him and pressed her grappling hook into his hand. He jumped out the window and let it rip. 

They descended more quickly than she would have let them but it was his first time using the hook. They landed and she grabbed the gun again. She released it from the window and tucked it back in her sweater pouch. 

It was her first time looking at her Grunkle in actual light and she could help but give a delighted squeal.

“You have a mullet!” She declared. Stan blinked at her in confusion.

\-----------------------------   
-| S | T | A | N |-   
\-----------------------------

“Who  _ are  _ you?” Stan was not an idiot. The entire world might constantly call him one, and he might not be the scholar some people were (Ford), but he was not an idiot. He could read people quickly and he understood when he was being conned. 

There was no way this girl had been taken by those men. She was way too cheery to have been kidnapped by them. He knew Damian’s operation. The man had his hands in a lot of pies, but he had a few specialties. People and drugs were his main racket.

This child had not been taken by Damian. She was bruised and scarred, but she wasn’t injured in the right ways.

He could also hardly stand. His body was on fire and he was pretty sure he was running some sort of a fever. His stomach  _ hurt  _ in a way he’d never felt. He didn’t have to look to know what had happened. He’d been shot, stabbed, burned, and beaten in his time on the streets but he’d never been operated on. He couldn’t remember a lot from his anatomy classes but he remembered where the basic organs were. He’d been beaten up a lot and had to know where the valuable ones were. What might be swelling at what point. When you needed to go to a hospital and hope you could con them into thinking you had some sort of money, and when you just stole some advil and sucked it up.

He had owed Damian over a hundred thousand. That’s about what a kidney ran…

And now there was this kid to worry about.

“I’m Mabel Pi-an. Pan.” She smiled cheerfully and her braces flashed in the waning sunlight. Braces. A full set of them. That would have cost a pretty penny.

“Where’d you come from, kid?” He winced and shifted on his feet. Whatever stitches they had given him felt raw. He could feel blood trickling down his shirt. He was going to need to clean that pronto. He did not want an infection. Not again.

“I’m not sure… I just kinda wound up here.” She looked up at the window and squinted. Shit. He turned and looked up to see two figures peering down at them.

Stan grabbed Mabel’s hand and bolted towards the road. They needed to get out of here now. There were two cars lined on the road with no guards. That worked for Stan.

He shoved Mabel towards the back seat and hit the window with his elbow. It shattered, loudly. He reached in, careful of the glass, and unlocked the car.

“Get in.” He ordered. He didn’t know who she was or why she was here but Stan wasn’t about to leave a kid in this place. She’d freed him from the chair and thrown a glitter bomb at their attackers. He owed her for that.

Mabel climbed into the back seat and buckled up while he got in the front seat. He popped the panel under the wheel and jerked the wires down. He cut them with a knife he’d stolen and sparked the ones he needed together. The car revved to life.

“Thank God.” He put the car in reverse, glanced at the gas and saw they were at ¾ a tank, and backed up. He put it in drive and floored the gas. They shot onto the road as the doors to the building opened.

“Hang on.” He grunted. He heard a shuffling sound as he sped down the road. A glance at the rear view showed Mabel buckling her backpack into the seat next to her. It was a boring brown thing that didn’t look like her. She’d dressed it up with patches and knit figures and it look like she had painted on it in a few places.

They were still in New Mexico at least. He just had to get to the Stanley Mobile. He could book it out of here as soon as he had that.

He got on the highway going well over ninety and nearly wrecked them as he merged. He swerved around a few cars and put more space between him and the house.

Mabel laughed. “Woo!”

What was wrong with this kid? She’d had three guns to her head minutes ago. She was now in a car with a strange guy she’d found tied up and didn’t even look scared. She had no self-preservation instincts.

“How fast can this go, Grunkle Stan?”

He nearly slammed on the breaks. He only swerved a little. He righted his course and got in the exit lane.

“Huh?” He hadn’t understood every word she’d said but he was certain he’d heard his name. He hadn’t given his name. He’d been careful about that. He never gave a name unless he had to.

“How fast can this go?” She was bubbly and smiley and either didn’t notice or was ignoring his irritation.

He got off the exit and stopped at the red light. He adjusted the mirror so he could see her eyes. She met his in the mirror. Strangely familiar brown eyes. Everything about her was vaguely familiar.

“How’d you know my name, kid?”

“Huh?”

“My name.” The light turned green but he didn’t move. There were no other cars behind him. “How did you know it?”

“What’s your name?” She smiled all the more broadly and he saw that she had rainbow bands on her braces. They went with her purple sweater. She had some sort of leprechaun/unicorn hybrid on it. “I said Grand Stand. It’s a nickname.” She spoke blithely without any hesitation.

It felt like a lie and he didn’t know why. There was no obvious tell. He just felt it in his gut. His gut which was throbbing like a bitch. He needed to get help pronto.

“Nickname huh?” He turned onto the road that led into town.

“Yep! I call my brother it all the time. Or… well, I used to. Mostly I call him Dip-Dop now. Or Bro-Bro. Or Mystery Twin.”

He almost slammed on the break again. Twin. She had a twin. Of course she did. Lots of people did. Maybe not a lot of people. But they were a thing. Just because he was a twin didn’t mean others could be as well.

“Twin, huh? Where’s he at?” She didn’t respond quickly. Something nervous flared in his stomach. He looked in the mirror to see her staring out the window with a tiny, worried, frown.

“Oregon, I think. I… I lost track of him.” She sighed and seemed to shake off her depressed mood. “But I’m going to find him.”

“Where are your parents at?”

“They were in California.”

“California?” They were in New Mexico. Had she run all the way here? She was bruised and cut, but she was in good keep. Her hair was clean, her clothes were nice and fit her, and her shoes were in good repair. She’d been taken care of, hurts aside. He’d been beat up loads of times as a kid and he’d worn second hand. She looked better than he had.

“Yeah.” She swung her feet a little. He pulled into the drug store parking lot and parked the car.

“Okay.” He turned the car off and twisted in his seat. Mabel was unbuckling her back pack. “I’ve got to get a few things. You can stay here, come with, or go your own way. No pressure.”

“Go my own way? Pshhnaw.” She scooted forward on her seat. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy. Lets go. We need lots of bandages for whatever those mean men did to you. Maybe some food too. And Toffee Peanuts. Gotta get the nuts.” She laughed and swung the door open.

Toffee peanuts? Did she like them?

He followed her inside because there really wasn’t anything else to do. He zipped his jacket up to cover his bleeding chest. Mabel went straight to the counter, all bubbly and bright, and started to talk with the cashier. It was a young chick that looked like she might be in high school. Her face was covered with acme and she had her stringy hair pulled back from her face with barrettes. She wouldn’t be anything to worry about. He could lift a few items from here easily enough.

He made his way to the back where they had the first aid supplies. He swiped a few bottles of pain meds, a few tubes of antiseptic, some gauze, a few gauze pads, some tape, and a box of band aids. He shoved what he could in his pockets and held the band aids. Mabel seemed like the type who would bug him about them if she didn’t see them. He grabbed two bottles of water and hid them in his socks.

The snacks were last. He grabbed a few bags of toffee peanuts, m&ms, chips, and jerky.

“Can we get some smile dip?” Mabel asked with an eager grin when he returned to the front.

“Smile dip?” He passed the cashier the items he was going to pay for along with some of the cash from Damian’s henchman.

“The best candy ever!” She pointed towards the brightly colored candy. “But don’t eat too much of it at once. And definitely don’t eat it in a haunted convenience store.”

The cashier laughed even though Stan was fairly certain Mabel hadn’t been joking.

“Here,” She passed Mabel the smile dip with a shrug. “On the house, kid.”

Mabel squealed. She slung her back pack off her shoulder and unzipped it. Stan caught a glimpse of yarn, cameras, and a scrapbook before she was pulling a sticker book out. She pulled a sticker out of it and stuck it on the cashier’s hand. It was a picture of a pink dog licking an ice cream cone that said ‘stay cool!’ The cashier smiled, utterly charmed.

Stan grabbed the bag with their stuff and pulled Mabel with him. They didn’t have time to dawdle with stickers. Damian’s men wouldn’t be far behind. He needed to ditch the car. It was only a few blocks to his car. He could drive there in a few minutes.

He scanned the road when they walked outside. There weren’t any obvious cars besides theirs. He climbed into the driver seat after making sure there was no one hiding in the back seat. Mabel climbed in the back. He shut the door and drove off.

\-----------------------------   
-| M | A | B | E | L |-   
\-----------------------------

It was kind of funny but Grunkle Stan hadn’t introduced himself yet. She had told him her name a few times and didn’t get anything from him.

She’d called him Grunkle Stan but she was pretty sure he bought her lie.

“So,” She drew the word out as he drove away from the drug store, “what is your name?” He looked at her in the rearview mirror. She smiled cheerfully and tried not to stare too pointedly. It was so strange to see the Grunkle she loved so much younger. The face was the same and not the same at all. She loved his face, especially when it was alert. His older face could be a little gross, but he wasn’t at all gross on the inside. This young Grunkle wasn’t really gross, but he was sad. He was sad and hurt. This was her Grunkle when he’d been homeless.

She wanted to hug her poor broken teacup but she knew he wouldn’t respond well to that yet. It had taken her half the summer to break through her Grunkle’s barriers. She had to give him some time before she just started hugging him.

“Harley.”

Blurgh. That was so close and so far. She’d slip up again.

“Harley? I like it!”

He didn’t reply. He simply looked back at the road and turned onto a side road. They went down it and he made another turn. He then pulled into a crowded parking lot. She couldn’t understand why until she saw the Stanley Mobile. The car was younger with a few more dents, strangely enough.

She wanted to hug it. That car was a member of the family. It had become all the dearer when she learned it had housed her Grunkle for so long.

“Cool car! Is it yours?” Her Grunkle didn’t let anyone (Looking at you, Grunkle Ford) talk bad about the Diablo.

Stanley’s smile was soft and fond as he looked at his beat up vehicle. “Yeah. Seen me through a lot of miles.”

He climbed out of the stolen vehicle and went to the Stanley Mobile. Mabel followed him out. He grabbed his keys from his hiding spot (in the left side mirror. He’d made it able to flip open. Future Stan hid a little cash in there as well) and unlocked the car. He then put their groceries in the passenger seat and pulled out a hose. She’d seen him do this once before. He hadn’t realized she was watching at the time. After the first month he tried to reign in the blatant criminal activity around her. She would have normally called him out on it but these men had done something to her Grunkle. They owed him some gas at the very least. 

Once he had siphoned most of the gas he rounded on her and frowned.

“Okay, kid, this is where the rubber meets the road. I’m heading out of New Mexico ‘cause it’s not safe here anymore.” They were in New Mexico? Well that was good to know. Wow. That was  _ so  _ far from Oregon. 

Stan rested his hand on the top of the Stanley Mobile and leaned against it. He was still bleeding. He needed to change his bandages. She kind of wanted to go back to Damian’s house and kick the men a bit more. The whole point of going back in time was to help Grunkle Stan. She’d arrived too late to stop whatever they’d done and she could tell it was terrible. She might be an optomist but she wasn’t dumb. It wasn’t her fault Dipper was super smart. Next to Dipper and Ford everyone looked a little dumb.

“So where do you need to get to? I can take you to the cops.”

Abort! He was trying to ditch her again. She had to do something. 

She shook her head hard enough to make her hair fall in her eyes. “Nope. No cops. Can’t go to the cops.” Stan nodded his head as though he understood. 

“Do you want to go back to your parents? You mentioned California?”

“No! I can’t go back!” She said the words too loudly and his eyes instantly shot back in the direction they had come from. She forced herself to breathe. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I just can’t go back.”

“Fine.” He considered her with the same calculating gaze he’d had when he’d picked them up at the bus stop on their first day in Gravity falls. “Do you know how to con?”

Her smile was big and natural. She could feel it stretching across her face. “A little. My Great Uncle taught me the basics.”

“Okay…” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, where you headed then?”

“Oregon.” That was where Dipper was. She knew it. If he’d wound up in a random spot he’d make his way there. If Dipper hadn’t time traveled, then Grunkle Ford was her best bet to get back to her own time. She also could go ahead and fix their relationship before Ford fell through the portal. 

Stan did a dramatic double take. Mabel took the moment to push her hair away from her face. She corrected her head band and was careful not to mess with the bruise on the side of her head. Stan’s eyes zeroed in on it. Oops. She hadn’t meant to draw attention to that. 

“How’d you get that, kid?” 

“I don’t remember.” And she really didn’t. There had been so many points when she could have got it. She had less injuries than Dipper because of Mabel Land. She felt kind of bad about that whenever she thought about it. He’d been wandering around for days before he’d managed to find her. He’d never stopped looking either. And what had she been doing? Living it up in her own sparkly world while the rest of the town was stuck in chaos world. She’d been so selfish.

“Really?” Stan straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. He clearly didn’t believe her which was just. Rude. “Got a headache?”

“Nope.” She chirped back.

“Nauseous?”

“No. I didn’t have  _ that  _ much smile dip.”

Stan raised an eyebrow. “Blurry vision?”

She shook her head. “Nope. I got perfect 20 20 over here.” Unlike everyone else in her family. Dipper would have to get glasses soon. He was dreading it.

“What year is it?” Stan asked. Mabel realized what was going on and felt her mouth pop open. Unicorn farts. She was going to fail his impromptu concussion test because she had no idea what year it was. Dipper was the timeline nut.

“1980 something.”

“82.” Stan offered. “January something. I’m not sure of the exact date.”

Mabel continued to smile while she had an inner panic attack. The portal had been open in January. Fiddleford had fallen in it in January. They were not going to be late. No. That was not all happening again. They’d come back to fix it and she wasn’t going to let this happen.

“So, Harley, where are you heading?”

She watched his face go a little slack as he thought it out. He didn’t know where he was going, did he? She opened her mouth to suggest he go to Oregon when his entire body tensed. He jerked the back car door open and shoved her towards it. 

“Get in, get in, getingetingetin!” Mabel flopped into the seat. Stan slammed it and rushed into the front seat. He shoved the keys in the ignition and started the car. He jerked the controls to drive and the car jolted forward as another black vehicle peeled into the parking lot behind them. Mabel unzipped her backpack and pulled out one of her bottles of paint. Blue sparkly seemed like a good option for now. She unscrewed the cap and rolled down the window while Stan drove over the grass to get on the road. The car sped after them and came up on her side of the vehicle. She waved at the men inside and hurled the paint at the front window. The cheap plastic bottle exploded and the blue, sparkly paint got all over the driver’s side of the car. The enemy driver swerved wildly while Stan tore down the road like a bullet. 

“Nice shot!” Stan shouted from the front. “Buckle up!” He sped towards the interstate while Mabel grabbed out another bottle and promptly put it back. She was not feeling yellow right now. Maybe never again. Green would work though. 

She readied it as Stan pulled back onto the interstate. They were going so fast. It was fantastic.

“They’re coming up on the right!” Stan called from the front. Mabel slid across the back seat and rolled that window down. Her hair whipped around her face but she pushed it aside. She readied her bottle and waited-

BAM

It sounded like a bullet hit the other car’s window. The bottle exploded dramatically and their windshield cracked. The car swerved wildly and ran off the road into the grass. They slammed their brakes and Stan continued to speed off. Mabel let out a loud and triumphant whoop before rolling up the windows.

“Good job, Mabel!”

Ha! Progress! He said her name and she’d helped. She was totally nailing this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few chapters of this already outlined. It'll switch between Mabel's action and Dipper's action. I've got a lot of ideas for this already lines up and I'm excited to get going.
> 
> Kudos to anyone who can guess which song this chapter's title is from. I'll credit it next chapter. Also, I'll give a shout out to anyone who can guess the song that the title of the story is from. 
> 
> Feel free to give me any suggestions or plot points you'd like me to touch on in this story. :)


	2. I Say No… To Status Quo...

\-----------------------------------   
-| D | I | P | P | E | R |-   
\-----------------------------------

Dipper landed in a pile of snow with a high pitched scream. His bare arms and knees started to almost instantly ache as he sunk up to his elbows. His back pack fell off his shoulder and blew up snow into his face as it landed beside him.

He was not dressed for this kind of weather.

He struggled to his feet shaking his bright pink hands. That hurt. Everything about this hurt. Blurgh. His shoes and socks were going to be soaked. He hated wet socks.

He tugged his backpack free of its snowy prison and stood upright. He looked around to see where he was and saw the Mystery Shack about fifty feet away.

He promptly found his mouth popping open. The “Mystery Shack” text was no longer over the door. He took five steps back and looked up at the roof and sure enough, the words weren’t up their either. He blinked at it owlishly a few times. They’d intended to go back in time but it hadn’t occurred to him that the Mystery Shack wouldn’t be the Mystery Shack. 

The door to the shack opened and someone inside laughed. It was a deep, throaty laugh that Dipper had only heard once or twice. And both of those had been during a game of DD&D.

Great uncle Ford came out of the Mystery shack with his long coat and a green sweater. His coat was new looking and didn’t have any of the familiar patches or stains. His glasses weren’t cracked and he was missing the scars on his face from his travels in the portal. His hair, while it had a few hints of grey at his side, was a rich brown. Dipper could see a family resemblance between the man in front of him and his dad.

“Come on, Fiddleford. If you’re quick I might let you drive.” His great uncle stopped on the top step when he saw Dipper. His mouth was open in mid-sentence and he had his hand raised with an old set of car keys in them. Dipper’s mouth was stuck open and he wasn’t sure what his face was doing. 

He’d done this deliberately and he still couldn’t get over the fact that he was looking at his younger great uncle. He had been chased by a dozen different chaos demons in the past week. This shouldn’t have even fazed him. 

“Don’t even pretend like you’re going to be drivi- what’s going on?” Fiddleford McGucket stepped out of the not yet Mystery Shack. It wasn’t the Old man McGucket that Dipper knew. This was the young man that he’d seen in the erased memories. He had lighter hair than Ford, and a friendly, open, face with vibrant, focused eyes. He was wearing a hand knit, blue sweater with the Star Trek Emblem on it and had a scarf bundled around his throat.

“Hello there,” McGucket was the first to break the silence, “can we help you?”

“I-uh.” He spluttered helplessly after waiting far too long to respond. His brain didn’t particularly feel like it was working. He suddenly felt extremely sick. Mabel always teased him about getting nauseous when he got nervous. His hands went to his stomach automatically as he choked back bile.

“Woah!” McGucket clearly recognized what was going on and jogged down the steps to him. Ford hung back. “Easy there, fella,” he pat Dipper on the back and put his other hand on Dipper’s shoulder. The scent of grease was heavy on the man and he could see the stains of it on his calloused hands. He’d been making something recently.

Dipper heaved up whatever was in his stomach (stancakes? Was that the last thing he’d eaten? He couldn’t remember.) and that made his great uncle Ford finally move. Ford came up on McGucket’s other side and stared down at Dipper. He knew he’d gone paler than he usually was and he realized for the first time that his arm was really bruised. He saw the cuts, the scars, and the burns from his earlier adventures and realized he looked like he’d been in several fights. Which, of course, he had. It had been a wild summer. Not always in a good way.

“Breathe kiddo, we gotcha.” McGucket said. He rubbed his hand on Dipper’s back and murmured something Dipper couldn’t make out. It sounded like he was trying to offer some form of comfort.

“I don’t recognize him, do you, Fiddleford?” Fiddleford shook his head as Dipper straightened. He grit his teeth and refused to vomit again. He could not believe he’d just thrown up in front of Great Uncle Ford. He just had to ride this out. He’d be fine.

“I’m Dipper,” He finally managed to gasp before clutching his stomach again. God, he felt awful. It hurt to even breathe. He lifted his head to see that Ford was standing in front of him. He looked up at him. The Author of the Journals. The coolest man in the world was in front of him and he’d just seen him throw up. Oh God. He inhaled sharply to say something else and found that the world was suddenly spinning quite dramatically.

Fiddleford caught him before he hit the ground. He exclaimed something that Dipper couldn’t hear. Ford stepped forward at that point and picked Dipper up.

“Let’s get him inside. Do you still have that blood testing kit?” Fiddleford nodded his head to Ford’s question and followed him into the house.

When Dipper woke back up he was on the couch with a blanket thrown over his shaking body. His backpack was on the floor next to him and both Ford and McGucket were standing in front of him. They were talking to each other under their breath. It took a lot of effort to open his eyes. Once he got them open he felt dizzy again.

“Ah,” His Great Uncle said. “You’re awake.”

“Hurgh,” Dipper managed. He closed his eyes again. He felt a hand drop on his forehead and almost smiled. It had six fingers.

“He’s still warm. Hmm. Look at his head.” He felt a calloused finger drag along his forehead. It traced the dots and lines of his birthmark.

“Is it natural?’ Fiddleford asked.

“Birthmark.” Dipper answered. It came out sounding more like ‘burdmak.” He swallowed and found his mouth was dry. He opened his eyes again and saw both men looking down at him.

“Your blood sugar is low-Dipper, was it?” Dipper nodded his head and found it made him feel even weirder. “Do you have hypoglycemia often?” Ford offered him a glass of juice while he spoke. He took it but had to close his eyes as he did so. The room kept spinning. He felt shaky and weak as well. Fiddleford put a hand behind his head and helped him sit up a little. He aided Dipper in bringing the juice to his lips. Dipper took a couple sips of the tart juice and tried to lower the glass.

“No. Drink it all.” Ford pushed the glass back towards his face. “We need to raise your blood sugar. We have several questions for you.”

Dipper drank the juice down and ate the crackers that McGucket handed to him. He tried not to stare at him but he couldn’t help it. Gone was the crazy gleam in McGucket’s eyes. He looked sane, young, and happy. Dipper also felt less dizzy if he focused on something.

So if Great Uncle Ford and McGucket were together, then the portal hadn’t been finished yet. Had they even started on it yet? Oh, duh. Of course they had. That was the entire reason McGucket was in Gravity Falls. Did that mean Bill had entered the picture? Duh again. He was the entire reason the portal was being built. How deep in the picture was Bill? He knew Ford had trusted Bill over Fiddleford… were they in that deep yet?

What time of year did it start to snow in Gravity Falls? He knew the Portal failure happened in January.

They were in the living room so he couldn’t tell if the Bill decorations were up-and never mind. Apparently Stan had removed some of the triangle décor because there was a triangle carpet on the floor with the all Seeing Eye in the middle of it. It made him shudder to look at and he nearly dropped the glass. McGucket noticed his shaking hand and took the empty glass.

“Careful!” he said good naturedly. Mabel would have laughed and called him clumsy.

Mabel!

Where was Mabel? He was suddenly gripped with an intense panic and the nausea returned. He tried to climb off the couch, only to be pushed back. Ford kept a forceful hand on his shoulder and was now frowning. It wasn’t nearly as intimidating a frown as it would be. Thirty years in the multiverse had made Ford an excellent frowner. 

“Mabel? Who is Mabel?”

“She’s Mabel!” He had never had to explain who Mabel was. She’d always been there and she was not one to blend into a crowd. She was the one who had to introduce him typically. “My twin sister. She was with me…” Something had gone horribly wrong. They’d never been separated when time traveling before. Where was the Time Tape? “I think she was at least.”

“There was no one else outside Dipper.”

“Do you know where you are?” McGucket suddenly asked. Ford turned to look at him in surprise while Dipper could only blink.

“Yeah. The Mystery sh- er, Gravity Falls.”

Ford furrowed his brow and frowned. Dipper tried to smile but felt too sick. There was no fixing this.

“So you know about Gravity Falls. Do you know what day it is?” Ford raised a challenging eyebrow at Dipper. He’d seen that exact same expression when they were playing DD&D. He’d beat Ford’s challenge that time.

“November 28th 1981?” He knew his Great Uncle had made the deal in 1981 and he wasn’t sure when McGucket had joined him in building the portal. It seemed the safest bet. Plus, if it was much later than that McGucket wouldn’t be here. They’d tested the portal in January of 82.

The two scientist shared a doubtful look before turning back to Dipper. “Why was that a guess?” McGucket finally asked.

“A wrong one?” Ford added. Wonderful. They were probably closer to the portal than he’d thought.

Dipper tried to smile but it just came out painful and wrong. He opened his mouth and promptly closed it again. He covered his hand with his mouth and fought against the feeling of the crackers coming back up. He clenched his jaw and refused to throw up.

“What’s your full name, Dipper?” Ford asked. McGucket was patting him on the back just like Mabel did when he was sick.

“My full name?” He finally managed. Ford nodded his head. “Mason Pine-“ he froze and felt a surge of panic in his gut. “Tree. Pinetree. Mason Pinetree.” Well that was horrible. Pinetree. He could hear Bill in his head, laughing as he called him “Pine Tree.” Why had he picked that name? 

“Well, Mason, how did you end up in my yard?”

Dipper furrowed his brow and thought for a moment. It hurt to think. Finally, he decided he’d have to answer with the truth.

“I, uh, don’t remember. I was, at least, I think I was, um, in the woods? I was looking for… something…” He trailed off lamely. It sound weird even to his own ears.

“Where are your parents? In town?” McGucket asked kindly. Dipper shook his head. It was time to make up a story. Mabel was the one that was gifted at storytelling. Dipper hadn’t inherited any of his Grunkle Stan’s conning abilities. No, he’d gotten the sarcasm instead.

“No.” He shook his head and forced the panic down. He could do this. He just had to think of a story. Some reason why Ford would want him to stick around. “They, uh, they aren’t around.” He swallowed and shivered. He felt unreasonably cold. “What day is it?”

“January 2nd, 1982.”

“That late, huh?” Dipper asked with a sinking feeling in his gut. In sixteen days Ford and McGucket would open the portal. McGucket would get sucked into the portal and his mind would break. It was sixteen days until Ford learned who Bill really was. Sixteen days until the entire, terrible, downward spiral started again.

They’d meant to go back a little further. Mabel had convinced him to go back and help Grunkle Stan. He hadn’t wanted to change the timeline because that was so risky but…

He couldn’t just sit here and let it happen again. He couldn’t let the confident, cheerful look in his Great Uncle’s eyes die again. He couldn’t go back and see the broken man Fiddleford had become and not do anything. What was the point of time tape if you didn’t change anything? Besides. He was stuck here until he found the time tape and Mabel. He’d have to make it a better future for himself. If Mabel had traveled back in time with him, she’d head for Gravity Falls.

“Yes.” Ford answered shortly. “What do you mean that your parents aren’t around?”

“Just that. They’re in California. Or they were. It’s been a while since I’ve seen them.” He shrugged. It was weak sauce. Mabel would be shaking her head at him.  _ Where’s the tragedy and humor, Dip-dop? The pizazz?! _

He needed to change topics until he could think of a back story. “I ran into something in the woods…” Good, Ford was looking interested. What was something he’d be interested in seeing at this point? 

Oh. Yeah, that could work. 

“There was something behind me that kept disappearing when I’d look. I was in the woods when I caught my reflection and saw it.” He cut his words off abruptly and bit his lips. He tried to look scared which wasn’t too hard. He was stuck in the past. Everything he knew would be different. How many people weren’t even alive yet? His parents were toddlers at this point. How weird would it be to see them...

Did Grandpa Shermie keep in contact with Ford? He knew Grunkle Stan was there the day they were born but that was Stanley pretending to be Stanford.

It didn’t matter. He needed to focus. 

“What did it look like?” Ford leaned forward with a familiar gleam in his eye. 

“Tall, thin, black. I thought it was a shadow at first until I noticed the glowing yellow eyes. It had bark like skin.” He shuddered. He still didn’t feel quite right. What had Ford said? Hypoglycemic? Low blood sugar? That had never happened before. He’d never passed out before. 

“Do you think you could show us its location when you start to feel better?” Ford asked eagerly. Fiddleford shook his head.

“No, Ford. He needs to find his family, not go gallivanting into the woods.” 

“I’d rather do the woods thing, if it’s all the same.” Dipper stated. Both men stared at him. Ford with excitement and Fiddleford with blatant worry.

Dipper smiled sincerely enough to make his Grunkle and twin proud. It was time to put on a show. 

\-----------------------------   
-| F | O |R | D |-   
\-----------------------------

It took Dipper most of the morning to feel better. They fed him a few more glasses of what was left of the juice in the house. Ford drank tea almost exclusively. Fiddleford typically preferred pepsi though he would have juice when he was feeling homesick. It was Tates favorite thing. 

His friend had slipped right into the role of Dipper’s caretaker. Ford was unaccustomed to caring for someone. It had been a long time since he’d had to. Fiddleford require very little maintenance. He was largely self sufficient. 

The last time Ford had to care for someone he was a child. Stanley rarely got sick unless Ford was already ill. If he caught the illness he was almost always well before Ford was. Ford cared for Stanley by cleaning his wounds. It was part of their unspoken deal. Stanley would beat up the bullies and Ford would dress his wounds.

Stanley had been surprisingly easy to care for. He was a nightmare when he was sick but he was patient and still when Ford cleaned his cuts.

He hadn’t thought about those moments in a long time. They tended to make him sad and… something he couldn’t define. Every memory he had seemed to be tinted with a sense of sorrow and longing. One afternoon had ruined them all.

He shoved the memories down as he always did. It was easier to forget or ignore than to remember and ache.

Dipper grabbed his back pack before he led them outside. Fiddleford kept staring at him but Ford couldn’t decipher what the looks meant. 

“Don’t you think you should have a jacket before we go outside?” Fiddleford finally said with a huff and an eyeroll. He looked tired and cold. Ford considered the boy and had to agree that Fiddleford was correct.

“That would be appreciated.” Dipper said. Ford didn’t have an extra jacket but he had a thick sweater that would do. He gave it to the boy and Dipper only had to roll the sleeves a few times to be able to use his hands.

“Alright, I saw him in the gnome clearing.”

“You know about the gnomes?” Ford couldn’t help but ask. Dipper laughed and nodded as he trotted along the side of the house. 

“Of course. They’re obnoxious and everywhere.” 

“Do you live around here?” Fiddleford prodded. 

“Err. Kind of?” Dipper started to walk a little quicker. The two scientists matched his pace. They really shouldn’t be out here doing this. They were nearly finished on the portal. He should be focusing on the last calculations and getting the supplies they needed from the alien wreckage. 

Instead he was following a child out in the snow on the off chance they could catch a glimpse of the hide-behind.

Bill would understand, surely. He was insistent on the portal being built but he understood that Ford needed to know as much about the oddities in this town as possible. The more he learned the closer he got to completing his unified theory of weirdness.

“What do you mean by ‘kind of’?” Fiddleford asked after a long moment when it became clear that Dipper wasn’t going to continue.

“Well, I was with the carnival but I didn’t travel on when they did.” 

Ford frowned. Something about that didn’t ring true. “The carnival? It’s been a few months since they came through.”

Dipper shrugged. “Yeah. I liked this town though. The carnival was alright but it got old. The hand witch retreated to the mountain over there,” he pointed to their right to one of the nearer peaks, “and I hang out with her. I left ‘cause the hand thing became a bit much.”

Fiddleford looked like he wanted to ask more questions but Dipper stopped him with a raised hand. 

“Over there! Do you see it? It just ducked behind that tree!” 

\-----------------------------------   
-| D | I | P | P | E | R |-   
\-----------------------------------

He led them to the place that he knew Hide Behind liked to hang out. It was where he’d almost spotted him and where Manly Dan had spotted him. By the end of the day Ford had seen a leg of the creature and was ecstatic. They returned to the Shack after dark. It was too late to go to town now, especially with all the ice on the roads. Thank you winter and terrible back roads.

Ford was the first one in the shack, laughing delightedly at the polaroid Dipper had taken. Fiddleford was second with Dipper trailing after them.

He felt it the minute he walked into the Shack. He’d gotten so used to the quiet, warm, hum of the unicorn spell that he forgot the shack hadn’t always felt like that. It had once just been a house. 

(Not really. The Shack had never been  _ just  _ anything. There’d always been magic in the air.) 

It had never felt like this though. This was chilling. This was heavy. The air was oppressive and thick. He could feel something pressing against him. Something evil. It stole the breath from his lungs and turned his stomach.

“Bill.” His mouth formed the name silently and he shuddered. How could he have forgotten so quickly? One fun afternoon and he’d forgotten that the demon was here and in control of his uncle.

“Come on in, Dipper.” Ford called cheerfully. He took off his boots and scarf and hung them by the door. Dipper followed suit even though he wanted to keep his borrowed scarf. It was cold. Why didn’t the men notice it?

“I’ll heat up the soup.” Fiddleford offered. Ford nodded in approval. “Very good. I’ll find a spot for our guest to sleep tonight.”

“I don’t mind sleeping on the couch. Please don’t go to any trouble.” He shoved his hands in his pocket and fiddled with the pen he had in it.

Ford shrugged and went towards the kitchen. Dipper followed silently. 

Was Bill listening right now? Where did he go when he wasn’t possessing Ford? When Dipper had been forced into the mindscape he’d just wandered around. This was his reality though and he hadn’t been able to go to any other one. Bill’s dimension was the nightmare realm. Did he just retire to that location between possessions? 

Man, that was just a rabbit hole of horrible thoughts. He didn’t need to fall down it. 

He made an excuse to Ford and went to the bathroom. He locked the door behind himself and looked at the mirror. He was pale. There were bruises and cuts on his face and his arms, along with a litany of scars he’d earned over the summer. His parents were going to freak out whenever they got home. Heh. Before summer he’d have freaked out too. He’d always been a bit of a wimp on the pain threshold. Well that wasn’t a problem anymore. He’d always been terrified of being hurt. He’d been hurt now and he’d lived. He’d been through terrible things and come out on the other side stronger. He wasn’t scared of pain now.

Weirdly, despite his skinny form, bruises, cuts, pale skin, and baggy eyes, he liked what he saw. He liked the Dipper Pines that he’d become over the summer.

Now wasn't the time to be thinking about any of that. He smiled at his reflection and pretended it was Mabel looking back at him. he just needed longer hair and braces.

Oh. Ow. He’d never thought about that before. Stan’s behavior over the summer suddenly made  _ so _ much more sense. No matter he was always talking to mirrors. 

No time to think about that. He opened his backpack and pulled out the third journal. He’d found them after Weirdmeggedon and hadn’t quite worked up the ability to give them back to Ford yet. They had been completely repaired by the reversal of Weirdmeggedon. Pages that had been missing or damaged were back and in perfect condition. There was a lot of info in them he could have used at so many points this summer.

He flipped through the pages until he reached the page with the memory gun. He checked the date and frowned. The memory gun was made and being used at this point. Okay… that made things a little more difficult but, unless he was mistaken, the Society wouldn’t have been formed yet. No… that happened after the test on the portal. Poor Fiddleford.

He needed to go back and see what they were doing. Maybe steal away and see if the basement was locked. If it wasn’t, he could steal a harddrive. That would buy him some time. If it was locked, he could try and pick it and steal the harddrive anyway.

It wasn’t much, but it was the start of a plan. 

* * *

Dipper wasn’t sure how he managed it but he was sleeping in the living room. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever slept in here before. He’d spent a lot of hours in this room but he didn’t think he’d slept in it. Not deliberately anyway.

He missed Stan’s arm chair. It was more comfortable. It was familiar and warm. This room was cold. This room was covered in triangles and heavy with an unseen presence. Bill ruled here and he hated it. 

He had to think of a plan. He had to think of a way to stay with them. Ford wouldn’t be that hard to fool. His Great Uncle hadn’t exactly been his sanest at this point in his life. Fiddleford would be the tricky one to get around. He would not want Dipper working with them. He’d see it as irresponsible. He’d also want to return Dipper to his parents. Which, again, was the responsible thing to do. Dipper couldn’t blame him for it. It was weird to have Fiddleford be the responsible and sane one though.

He sighed and rolled over. Fiddleford and Ford had retired to bed about fifteen minutes ago. That was probably long enough to wait. Right?

He scrambled off the couch and headed towards the break room. He had no idea what that would look like now.

Everything was different in the house. It was confusing. He missed the familiarity of the Mystery shack and its hokey exhibits. This felt like the Mystery Shack, but real. In a not good way. There was freaky stuff everywhere. Gadgets that Fiddleford had invented, monster remains, diagrams of creatures, magical items, and Bill memorabilia. The house was practically an altar to the demon. 

He wanted to grab each one and smash it or tear it apart. He had disliked Bill pretty much from the beginning. Knowing what he’d done to Ford had made his hate ignite. Seeing the note Bill had left for Mabel had turned that hate into a dark, intense thing that scared Dipper. He’d not been aware he could hate something that much. 

It took all his willpower to walk past the items. He went to the back room which was some kind of a study and went to the wall where the vending machine would eventually be.

There was a bookshelf there currently. He eyed the books on the shelf and found that most of them were scientific or mathematical. A few were on fantastical creatures. Three didn’t belong. One was a copy of the Sibling brothers - the very copy Dipper would read in about thirty years. One was a very worn copy of Treasure Island that looked like it had been water damaged. The last was a copy of One Thousand and One Nights.

He felt a big grin lift his lips. Man, that was fantastic. He tugged on the book and murmured ‘Open Sesame’ as the entire shelf rumbled. It began to swing forward. He stepped out of its way. In the open space was a door. A locked door.

“Aw man.” He sighed and shuffled towards the door. He gave the knob a halfhearted jiggle only to confirm that, yeah, it was locked.

Where was Grunkle Stan when he needed him?

Oh! Birthday gifts!

He shuffled back to the living room and grabbed up his backpack. He shuffled through it until he found the items he needed. He tugged out the blue pouch and peered inside. Lockpicks. His parents would be furious but man, he was so grateful that Grunkle Stan was weird and had questionable morals. Plus, these would have been so useful over the past summer.

They were given with the excuse that “He’ll need them if he ever gets arrested again.” Ford, who had equally questionable morals, had laughed.

He went back to the study with the lock picks and a bubble of excited energy. He got halfway through the room before he felt his breath catch in his throat. The secret passageway which he had left wide open was closed.

“I reckoned I would find you in here.”

Dipper jumped at least a foot into the air. He spun around and raised his hands defensively. He didn’t have a real weapon but that wasn’t going to stop him from putting up a fight.

FIddleford McGucket was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He had an eyebrow raised and a frown. He was wearing a robe designed to look like a lab coat over red pajamas. His glasses had dropped down his nose and he was staring down at Dipper disapprovingly. 

“McGucket!” He squeaked out. He took a step back and clutched the pouch of lockpicks nervously.

“Want ta tell me why you’re in here at this hour?”

“I got lost.” He tried to sound confident but it came out almost like a question. Mabel would have been shaking her head at him. Grunkle Stan would have laughed.

“Really? Lost enough that you needed lock picks?” McGucket pushed off the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. He had a pleasant smile on his lips and a remote control in his hands. Dipper didn’t want to find out what it did. This man had built the Gobblewonker, Gideon-Bot, and Shacktron while half-mad. There was no telling what he’d been capable of while fully in control of his mind. “Mind telling me what you’re really doing, Dipper?” Fiddleford was perfectly calm as he spoke and the pleasant smile never left his face. 

“I think you probably already know.” Dipper shrugged. What was the point in lying? He couldn’t continue this by himself. He came to change the past, he might as well start changing things. Fiddleford could be a key piece in the upcoming fight. It might at least give him advantage on persuading Ford. “I came to see how far the portal had gotten. If possible, I wanted to steal one of the hard drives you made.”

Fiddleford nodded his head like Dipper had just confirmed something for him. “I see. So you do know about the portal. Did someone from town tell you?”

He laughed without meaning to. “Do you honestly think anyone here would have any idea what a harddrive is? There are gnomes stealing their garbage and they don’t notice it.” He lived in 2012 and he doubted the people of Gravity Falls even knew what a harddrive was then.

Fiddleford nodded his head like that was a fair point. “Right. You said you were from California?”

“I lived in Piedmont California.” He shrugged. “It’s about a day’s drive.” 

“Lived? Where are you currently from? The town?”

Dipper smiled. Now or never. “The future, actually.”

Fiddleford’s smile dropped. His grip tightened on the remote. “The future?” Dipper nodded. “Like time travel?”

“Precisely.” He sighed and felt weary to his bones. He was still weak from the blood sugar problem. The Hide-Behind hunt would have been exhausting on a normal day. Take all of that and add in Bill’s oppressive presence and you were left with no energy. 

“Why?” 

He couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. That wasn’t the question he expected. “Because your suspicions are correct. The portal won’t lead to anything good.” He paused before continuing. “You’re taking this better than I thought you would.”

“There was a blip a month and a half ago.” Fiddleford murmured. He was studying Dipper. His blue eyes were intent and focused. It was strange to see the familiar features so sane. It made him all the more determined to change McGucket’s future. 

“A blip?”

“Yep. An anomaly that Ford recorded. We reckoned it had something to do with time. We just thought it was a side effect of the portal.”

Dipper had a realization and spoke it out loud. He was a verbal processor. “Oh! That was probably Mabel and I. We got a hold of Time Tape-er, a time travel machine-and kind of… warped our way through several different time periods.”

“You do realize what you’re saying is fantastical?”

Dipper nodded his head. “I know it’s a lot to swallow. I have proof though!” 

“Okay.” Fiddleford uncrossed his arms and shuddered. “I’m willin’ to listen.”

He led the inventor out of the study and to the living room. He grabbed his backpack from the couch and opened it. Inside was his GameBoy and the 3rd Journal. He pulled them both out. 

“This is a device from the future.” He passed the GameBoy to McGucket. The inventor’s eyes grew wide as he took it. He flipped it over in his hands and studied the buttons before turning it on. He jumped when it lit up and the logo danced across the screen. “It’s a game system. You know the computers you were working on in Pal Alto? Well, they get really advanced and small in the future. You can do all sorts of things with them.”

McGucket had already pried the back off the device and was peering at the circuitry underneath.

“This,” he passed the inventor his version of the 3rd Journal, “is the Journal Gr-er- Dr. Ford is currently working on.” 

McGucket stuffed the GameBoy in his pocket and took the journal. He ran his fingers along the cover before flipping through it. 

Dipper stuck his hand out. “I should probably introduce myself properly. I’m Dipper  _ Pines _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter title was from “Bumpy Ride” by The Hoosiers. Any guesses for this chapter? It's a lot trickier.  
> And Dip-dop's chapter has officially landed. Thanks for all the love <3 I'm really enjoying this fic and have so many ideas for it!


	3. First Thing, We Make You Feel Better

\-----------------------------   
-| S | T | A | N |-   
\-----------------------------

Stan had driven until they were well into Arizona. He’d had to drive through a mountain which meant snow was everywhere and it had seriously cramped his speed style. It was late and he was beat. There weren’t any hotels around even if he had the extra cash to spend on one. 

All the cash he’d had was taken by Damian. He’d borrowed from Rico to get that. God… How many people were after him now? He should have never agreed to Colombia. He’d always promised himself he would get involved in drugs. It was too dangerous. There were too many ways it could go wrong. Life had taught him that if something could go wrong, it would go horribly wrong for him. Every time without exception. Life hated him. It was obvious. Ever since he could remember he’d been beaten down by someone or something. The faces and locations changed but the pain didn’t. 

So when he’d woken up with a deep ache in his side, a bitch of a headache, while tied up, he knew life had just shat on him again. 

So why was Mabel a thing? Why was this bubbly little rainbow of a girl in his backseat snoring? Why was she snuggling a little doll and drooling under his old jacket? Who was this kid? Why did she glue herself to his side?

Why had she freed him? If she was a kid on the street (and boy did he have doubts about that) she would have just gotten out of dodge. She hadn’t been tied or incapacitated. Why help him? He could understand helping him if he looked strong. An enemy of my enemy type of situation. It’d just be gambling on the tied up guy not liking the people who tied him up more than the girl who freed him. Pretty good odds. But freeing a clearly bleeding guy? That didn’t make sense. He’d just slow you down.

She didn’t need his help. She had glitter and paint bombed her way to freedom as much as Stan had driven them away. 

She seemed to want to hang with him and that made no sense. No one wanted to hang with Stanley Pines. 

He parked the car in an empty lot. He couldn’t keep driving at this hour without putting them in danger. He needed to clean his injury as well. He’d avoided looking at it until now. He checked to make sure Mabel was asleep and then he pulled his shirt up. 

Moses. It was real. The cut was clinical and the stitches were neat. The work was nicer than he typically got. It was oozing some. His shirt had sucked up most of it. He should probably be grateful. It looked like they got him somebody who actually knew what they were doing.

This was the part that always sucked. He uncapped his antiseptic and poured it over the wound. He hissed through clenched teeth and pressed his head back against the chair as the searing pain flared. He exhaled noisily through his nose and gripped the sides of his chair. After a few horrible seconds the pain dulled. At least enough that he could continue his work.

The gauze pad felt like steel wool against his wound. He sucked in a harsh breath and taped it on. He put the supplies away and drank some of his water. He made a quick snack of the jerky and reclined the seat a little. 

How many nights had he spent in this car? How was it his most loyal friend?

How had he screwed his life up so much?

He didn’t remember falling asleep. He woke up confused with a crick in his neck. It was just getting light outside which meant it was 8 or so. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. What had woken him up? 

“Dipper.” He jumped and nearly yelped. He forced himself to take a steadying breath and looked in the back seat. Gone was the peaceful smile on Mabel’s sleeping face. Her expression was now pinched. She clutched the doll in her hands like it was the only thing that could help. 

“Dipper, no-no!” A sob left her lips and she kicked her legs. “Take me! NO!”

“Mabel.” He called her name forcefully while he twisted around his seat. She kicked again but didn’t look to be waking up. “Mabel, sweetie, wake up!” He shouted the words this time and it worked. Her eyes popped open and she sprang upright. Knitting needles appeared out of nowhere and she was brandishing them like they were a knife. She breathed heavily and blinked her big eyes.

“Dipper?” She gasped the word pitifully. Stan shook his head.

“Sorry, pumpkin. He’s not here. Do you remember where you’re at?”

“Yeah.” She relaxed and blinked. “With you in the diablo…” Her eyes trailed over the medical supplies he had in the front seat and something seemed to click for her. “Ah. How are you?”

“I’m fine, kiddo.” He saw her shudder slightly and frowned. “Was it a nightmare? Do you remember?”

“Right.” She nodded her head like he’d reminded her of something. She reached into the backpack and pulled out a colorful notebook. She opened it and flipped through a lot of pages filled in with brightly colored ink. She stopped on a blank one and pulled out a teal pen. “I’m supposed to write my nightmares down and change the ending.” She shuddered a little.

He watched her write loopy letters in a neat hand. He didn’t know what to do. Her nightmares were as loud as Ford’s used to be…

No. Don’t go down that road. It leads to hurt. Don’t think of Ford. Ford wasn’t thinking of him. He hadn’t earned the right to be thought of.

He finally settled on: “Wanna talk about it?” 

Mabel shrugged. “I, uh, almost got my brother really hurt. He made it out but… it was all my fault.” A tear splashed onto the paper. She stared at it as more gathered in her eyes. 

She was so young. What could she have possibly done to be in the middle of nowhere with a backpack that seemed to only have art supplies? Where was her twin and parents? He couldn’t believe she was capable of anything really terrible. There was an innocence in her eyes that hadn’t been stripped away just yet. Terrible deeds were quick to steal all innocence. 

He should know.

“Could you turn on the radio?” She glanced up at him with tear filled eyes. He nodded and turned the car on. It started without a hitch. Faithful as always. He reached forward and turned up the volume. Some stupid pop song filled the air and she instantly perked up. 

_ Woah girls do what we want! OoOh we’re taking over tonight! _

“I love this song!” She shut her notebook and dashed her tears away on her sweater. “It was Love Patrol Alpha’s first hit!” 

“Love Patrol Alpha? What’s that? Some new band?”

Mabel laughed. “My family band. This was our debut on Karaoke night.” She smiled to herself and smoothed the edge of her notebook. “We blew minds.” She laughed like it was the funniest joke ever. Her stomach growled and she looked surprised. He reached into the passenger seat and grabbed a bag of chips. 

He offered them to her. “It’s not much but it’ll have to do until we get to town.” 

She looked at him suspiciously. “What are you going to eat?”

“I ate already.” He smiled and shook the bag a little. 

“That’s a lie, St-Harley.” She grabbed the bag and opened it hastily. What was it she’d almost said? “We’ll half it.” She poured some of the chips on her journal and passed it back. He took it begrudgingly. 

“Ooh!” She added after a minute. She reached in her bag and pulled out a purple candy bar. It had some kind of plastic wrapping. “I forgot about the emergency chocolate!” She passed him one of the two bars she had. “It’s not Stancakes but its-” She cut off abruptly and dropped the bar.

Stan turned around fully in his seat and locked eyes with her. That was it. He was having this out now.

“Stan? Like Stanley?” 

He saw her eyes grow big with worry and he could point to the exact moment she decided to stop whatever lie she was trying to make him believe.

“Yeppers. Like Stanley Filbrick Pines. And we need to change your middle name pronto.” She looked at him openly for a moment before grabbing the backpack.

Stan’s reaction was automatic. He tensed and grabbed the nearest thing he had to a weapon. The antiseptic bottle was hardly useful but he’d hurl it if he needed to. She knew his name. She’d found him and knew his name. What could she want? Who was she with?

She straightened up with a pink scrapbook in her hands. It was about the size of a pocket paperback. She flipped it open and looked up at him. She noticed the tightly clutched bottle. 

“Sorry for scaring you. I had to try and lie because Dipper would kill me if he thought I just broke the time rules he made without at least trying. My name is Mabel Pines.” She flipped the scrapbook around so it was facing him. It was a picture of her, a boy that looked exactly like her, and an older man that looked strangely like him. They were all making funny faces and looked ecstatic. 

“Pines?” He asked dumbly. He didn’t understand what she was saying. 

“Yep, and you, sir, are my Grunkle Stan.”

Grunkle? There was that word again. What the hell was a Grunkle?

“Great Uncle.” She held up a hand with each word and then pushed them together. “Grunkle.” Had he spoken out loud? “I’m Shermie’s grandkid. One of them.” She beamed. “The best, obviously. Regardless of what Dipper says.” 

“What’s your game, kid?” This didn’t make sense. What kind of con was she trying to pull on him?

She blew out a long breath and frowned. “How can I convince you? Hmm… Your name is Stanley Filbrick-And as of now I’m calling you Mystery- Pines. You were raised in Glass Shard Beach New Jersey with your bestie and twin, Stanford Pines-”

Stan surged forward as much as he could. He made himself as big as possible and glowered at Mabel. 

“What,” he snarled, “do you want? Leave my brother out of this.”

“Wow!” Mabel looked impressed. “I knew you loved him! Dipper thought you were exaggerating but I told him you weren’t. You totally rushed up to Gravity Falls.” She didn’t seem scared at all. “And I don’t ‘want’ anything. Not from you. I want to fix what is going to go really bad. I think we still have time. If not… well, Dipper’ll know how to fix it.” She trailed off and stared at him. He was breathing heavily and wanted nothing more than to flee the car and this conversation. He had to find a phone and call ma. He had to warn her. She’d be able to contact Ford. She’d be able to warn him. Someone had found out about his past. Someone had found out about them.

She reached into the bag and he jumped. She ignored him and pulled a weird looking device out of her purse. It was small, pink, and some kind of metal. 

“This is a cell phone.” She flipped the top of the device and he saw what looked like some kind of screen and a lot of buttons. She pressed one of them and the device lit up. “I don’t have signal because it hasn’t been invented yet but I can show you some stuff.” The screen changed to a picture of her and the boy. His mouth popped open in shock.

\----------------------------------   
-| M | A | B | E | L |-   
\----------------------------------

All things considered this was going really well. He was holding her phone and flipping through the pictures she had. She’d opened the folder of her and Dipper from the past school year so she didn’t have to worry about spoiling anything for Gravity Falls.

“So this is some sort of future hokom?” It was the first thing Stanley had said and she was counting it as a win. Any conversation was better than silence. 

“Yep. It’s a cell phone. They’re portable telephones. Everyone has one in the future. I can call people, surf the web, take pictures, play games, text. It’s a small computer.” They had those in the 80’s, right?

“So what’s any of this got to do with me?” 

“You’re my Grunkle, and, well, don’t tell anyone but you’re my favorite Grunkle. Some really, really, really bad things happen in the future and I’m going to stop them. I was supposed to do it with Dipper but he had to go and get lost.” She shook her head and shoved the worry in her gut down. Dipper was fine. He was chilling with Grunkle Ford right now. Either in the past or in the future. He was happy and she was going to find him and they would be the mystery twins again. They were going to grow up together. They’d sealed the promise with a sincere sibling hug and the pats.

Right now, she knew the look in her Grunkle’s eyes. He didn’t believe her. Not really. 

“What can I do to convince you?”

He shrugged and passed her back her phone. She powered it down and shoved it in her backpack. Everything she knew about this period of his life was painful. She didn’t want to hurt him. That was kind of the opposite of the point of even being here.

“This bad thing you’re trying to stop, is it my fault?” Stan asked after a moment. She looked up at him and felt her stomach twist itself up in a knot. It wasn’t his fault at all. It was a lot of other people’s fault. Her’s most of all.

“No,” she rushed, “not even a little. It was my fault. I let a bad guy get hold of a thing and it brought-” She cut herself off. That line was a no-no. She was not to talk about it. Dipper would not let her.

“So you’re a Pines from the future?” 

“Yep, Alex is my dad.” He’d be a toddler about now… Weird. She was older than her dad. 

“Alex? Shermie’s kid?” Stan’s tone was unbelieving and she couldn’t even blame him. He hadn’t been to Gravity Falls yet and didn’t know how weird the world… was…

“The Jersey Devil.” She said it to herself without really realizing she said it out loud. “You and Ford found the Jersey Devil when you were twelve years old. Your father grounded you for the entire summer because you got caught with the chain you were going to spruce up for him.” Her great grandpa was a jerk in SO many ways. She kind of hated him. A lot. Wrong or not, she’d punch him if she ever met him.

“How’d you know about that?” Stan had a weird look on his face. It was somewhere between scared and cautious. 

“You told me over hot chocolate and bacon. It’s one of my favorite stories. The Classic Mystery Twins beating the Sibling Brothers? Terrific!” Another memory popped in her mind. “Oh! Lil’ Stanley! You’re comic book! With actual swears in it!”

Stanley jerked back and the caution was gone. He looked utterly startled. Mabel beamed and reached into her backpack. She pulled a copy of the comic book out. She passed it up to him. He took it without seeming to really notice he did so. She stared at him until he blinked and looked down at the comic book. He opened it and flipped through the pages. 

“How did you-”

“Soos. He’s a guy in the future that works for you. He’s the coolest and totally part of the family. He found the old book after we saved you from an evil comic book. He printed up a bunch of copies. You sell them. I bought that copy.” 

“Okay.” He dragged the word out as he worked through whatever he was thinking. Mabel was pretty sure he was well on his way to believing her. His hands stilled on the last page and she suddenly remembered what was there. She’d taped a picture she’d stolen from one of Ford’s photo books, and one she’d taken herself. The stolen picture was of Stanley and Stanford as kids. She loved it the moment she saw it. Ford was reading and Stan was drawing. The picture she’d taken was of Stanley reading a book and Ford sketching. She loved the reversal of roles and the quiet peace in the picture. She had big scrapbook plans for the comic book and pictures.

Stan pulled the pictures out of the comic book. The comic book fell to the chair forgotten. His fingers curled around the pictures protectively as he pulled them closer. She knew future Stan was nearsighted and could hardly see anything with his cataracts. Apparently young Stan wasn’t much better. 

“Okay.” He finally said after a really long time of awkward silence. Mabel had to put her hand over her mouth to keep herself from speaking. “Okay. I believe you.”

Her hand couldn’t muffler her squeal of delight.

\----------------------------------   
-| S | T | A | N |-   
\----------------------------------

He believed her. He really did. It was weird. He hadn’t believed someone in years. Believing people was a luxury that homeless people could not afford. Especially not homeless people like Stan. 

And this was a big thing to believe. A crazy thing. He wasn’t even certain time travel was the hardest part to swallow. Ford talking to him again? Sitting next to him and sketching? 

How could he possibly believe that? He wanted that. He wanted it more than he really wanted his next breath. But… there was a difference between wanting and believing. 

He let her climb into the front seat before they set back off towards Oregon. He had a vague notion of where that was in the US. It worked well enough. He hadn’t been to any states up in that area so he shouldn’t have to worry about running into anyone. 

“Breakfast first. I want pancakes if we can find them.” Mabel spoke as she fastened her seat belt. There was a pile of red yarn in her lap and a pair of knitting needles. 

“Kid, we’re on a mountain.” 

“So?” She shrugged and plucked up her needles. “Mountain people have to eat.”

“I don’t have a lot of money.” He put the car in drive and moved forward in the still abandoned parking lot. Maybe it was the weekend. Maybe whoever typically parked here had the day off. 

“I have a hundred dollars I can add to the pile.” 

Stan’s head turned towards her with a disbelieving frown. “A hundred dollars?” How did this kid get that kind of cash?

“Well, not a hundred dollar bill. But I’ve got a lot of tens, a few fives, a couple of ones, and a twenty.” She shrugged and started clicking her needles together with the yarn. Her fingers manipulated the yarn deftly and the metal needles became a blur. It was strangely mesmerizing to watch. 

“How are you so flush with cash?”

“Birthday money!” She replied chipperly. She beamed at him. “And that’s just what I got on me. I had more but it’s in the form of checks.” She looked at him sheepishly. “That’s not something you can use in this time period, right?”

“They’re a thing. I just don’t have any account.” He drove down the road to what he hoped was a town. Apparently they were getting pancakes.

The road did lead to town where there was a diner with a few cars parked out front. That was as likely a place to have pancakes as anywhere else.

He parked the car and got out with Mabel following. She took the backpack and yarn with her. She didn’t seem comfortable leaving it. She’d squirreld the pictures and comic book away at some point as well. 

That was, weirdly enough, the most street child he’d seen her act. Step one to living on the streets: Always keep your shit on you. You never know when you’ll have to make a dash for it. People will also take anything you have from you if you don’t have it on you. Sometimes even if you do. 

It worried him to see her do it. If she was his grand niece (and boy was that weird to think about) he didn’t want her having to think of things like that.

There was a plump, older woman working the counter. A few truckers were chatting amicably with her. A family with toddlers was near the front. Stan avoided looking at the two boys that were cheerfully eating waffles and made his way towards the back. Mabel followed him. She was chatting the whole time. First about how cute the place was, then about the colors, how happy the children were, how pretty the woman was, how good the food smelled. It was a never ending stream of thought. 

When was the last time he’d hung out with a kid? He hadn’t seen Shermie’s kid since he was born. And that had been a basic run in, Congratulations! and run out. He couldn’t risk staying in Jersey long. He was banned after all. 

“Pancakes!” Mabel squealed at an ungodly pitch that made Stan want to grab his head. He blinked and realized the waitress had reached them with menus. She was a teenager and looked like the lady at the counter. Probably a daughter.

“We got good pancakes.” She told Mabel cheerfully. She turned her gaze to Stan and he saw her frown a little. Of course. People never smiled at him. He looked like a hobo.

“Then we’ll take a platter.” He tried to sound friendly but his voice always sounded gruff. 

“And bacon!” Mabel added. The waitress redirected her attention and smiled affectionately. 

“Of course, sweetie. Anything else?”

“Two chocolate milks, and a bowl of fruit. Thank you.”

Gees, this was going to be more than he wanted to spend. Though, if she had money, why not?

“Alright, I’ll have that right out.” She took the menus back and went towards the kitchen. 

“Chocolate milk?” He asked with a smile. Mabel nodded her head.

“I know you love chocolate.” She pulled her knitting needles and yarn out. “and, well, don’t tell Waddles about the bacon.”

“Waddles?”

Her face brightened. “My pet pig! I won him at a fair you put on. He’s the best!”

A fair he put on? What did he do in her future? “A pig, huh?”

“Yep! You punched a pterodactyl in the face to get him back for me.”

He had no idea what to make of that. “Aren’t they extinct?”

She leveled a serious look on him. “They’re supposed to be. But… Gravity Falls doesn’t really care about ‘supposed to be’. “ She smiled fondly and looked down at her knitting. She already had a circle formed and a few rows on it. She was extremely quick. It occurred to him as he watched her fingers go that she had probably made the sweater she was wearing. It was a bright happy purple with a leprechaun/unicorn thing on front. Was it based off a movie/book character or was it her own imagined creature?

“You make that?” He asked to fill the silence. 

“Hmm?” She looked up at him with eyes that danced with happiness. He’d never met someone who seemed so genuinely happy all the time. He pointed to her sweater. She nodded her head once. “Yep! Birthday yarn.” 

“How old are you?”

“Thirteen.” She burst out like she’d been dying to say it. Stan felt his eyebrows rise.

“Big age.”

Mabel shrugged. “It really can’t top twelve. We had an apocalypse.” She grinned into her yarn and eyed him like she wanted to tell him something.

“So,” he said after a long moment of silence, “tell me about that pterodactyl.”

And she did. Enthusiastically. The waitress brought the food and even that didn’t quiet her down. She somehow managed to eat, talk, and knit at the same time. Stan listened and supplied an occasional response. He ate his fill and couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.

He couldn’t remember the last time he ate with someone. 

By the end of the meal he was full and smiling and happy. Mabel had finished what he figured out was going to be a collar and was working on the shoulders. 

The waitress set the receipt on the table and gave him an expectant look. Mabel shoved her knitting aside and snatched it up.

“Uh-uh!” She gave him an exasperated look. “You told me I could pay for breakfast!” She slapped a twenty down on the table and smiled expectantly at the waitress. The woman took the hint and left with the cash.

They got their change and returned to the car.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was night two with Mabel. They’d spent most of the day driving until they’d gotten a flat. He’d gotten the chance to teach Mabel how to change a tire. It was an… interesting experience. 

She was an endless bubble of excitement. She’d almost put the flat tire back on the car but he’d caught the goof before she got far. They’d got the tire back on and headed off again. They drove for about a half hour before she squealed loud enough to make him jump. She’d pointed out the window frantically until he saw a billboard for a local tourist trap called the ‘Hole N’ The Wall.’ 

Peace would not be had until he agreed to stop by it. 

They’d willed away a few hours there. He’d even made a few bucks with Mabel’s aid. Surprisingly, it was not hard for a kid as cute as Mabel to convince an adult to buy them something. It was also not hard for Mabel to sell said item to someone else.

He’d had fun. His mom would take Ford and him to tourist traps when they went on vacation. Not that they went on vacation a lot. But they’d occasionally visit family and when they did his mom would find the hokiest place and take them there.

Now they were crashing in the car again. They’d bought a burger a piece and a few bags of chips. Mabel had another bar of ‘emergency’ chocolate that they shared. He didn’t know what constituted an emergency for chocolate but he was grateful.

“Sad feelings or hungry feelings mostly.” Mabel said around a mouthful of chocolate. 

He hadn’t realized he was speaking out loud. “Sad feelings?”

She shrugged and broke off another piece. “Yeah. Chocolate makes pretty much everything feel better.” 

He couldn’t argue with that. 

He ate his last piece of the emergency chocolate and tried to keep his eyes on the road. He straightened in the chair a little to wake up. He always got sleepy when he was full. The movements made his stitches pull a little painfully and he couldn’t help but hiss. Mabel’s head snapped towards him. Her lips dropped into a frown and she twisted in her seat to face him. She had half a sweater in her lap. 

“Grunkle Stan, are you okay?”

He shrugged the question off and smiled cheerily. He’d always had a good con smile. “I’m fine, sweetie. It takes a lot to knock Stan off his feet.”

“I know.” She bit her lip and toyed with the yarn in her lap. He watched her struggle with wanting to say something before she lifted it up and started knitting again. 

“Who’s that for?”

She eyed him carefully like she wasn’t sure she could say. “Someone important.” She finished a row and flipped her needles around. “The last time I made him something it was summer. He wore it anyway.” She continued to click her needles. The sound was growing familiar. It was a nice white noise while driving. 

“So what’s in Oregon?” The clicking sound sped up. Huh. He must have struck a cord there.

Mabel waited long enough to respond that he almost asked the question again. “My family. Well, more of my family. I’m really hoping that’s where Dipper is. Even if he isn’t there, I know he’d head there.”

“More of your family?”

“Yeah.” She said it like the answer was obvious. “You’re my family too, Grunkle Stan.” He felt and heard his breath hitch. He tried to swallow the stupid swell of emotions her words caused but it didn’t work. The stew of feelings - far too many to sort through - rose in his chest and lodged in his throat in a lump that threatened tears.

_ Family _ .

It had been over ten years since anyone had used that word with him. It had been twelve years since he’d been kicked out. He’d got raging drunk on that night every year since the first one. The night after he’d been kicked out had been the first time in his life he’d ever gotten blackout drunk. December 19th, 1969. 

It had been twelve years and seventeen days. Twelve long years since he’d heard anyone refer to him as family. He’d only been seventeen. He was nearly thirty now. Shoot, he was only a few months from being thirty. 

He had spent an entire decade without seeing Ford. An entire decade of his life had passed and he hadn’t spent a second of it with his twin. He’d spent all of it alone without a single member of his family. 

And then this bubbly teen popped up in his life. She grabbed his hand, told him to run, and sprayed everything in glitter. She’d followed him, laughed with him, fed him, talked with him, and claimed him as family.

It was enough to make his eyes burn. Thankfully, Stanley Filbrick Pines was good at not crying. He’d gotten lots of practice at choking back tears. 

Unfortunately, his breath had audibly hitched earlier. 

“Didn’t you know that?” Mabel asked softly. “I thought it was obvious with the pictures.” She shuffled closer until she was pressed next to him. He kept his eyes straight even though he couldn’t really see the road anymore. They were in the middle of nowhere, thankfully. He didn’t have to worry about driving safely.

“You’re my Great Uncle. My favorite Great Uncle! I love you a lot.” She wrapped her arms around him and didn’t seem to care that they were both in a car and he was supposed to be driving. She didn’t let anything like seatbelts or seats stop her. Her warm, sweater clad arms, wrapped around his middle and held him tight. She didn’t press against his stomach but held him secure.

He had to stop the car. He couldn’t see anything any longer. The tears he’d fought against didn’t give a damn about what he wanted. They spilled down his cheeks and onto the smaller, curly head pressing against his chest. 

When was the last time he’d been hugged? 

“I’m so sorry you’ve been made so sad.” She mumbled the words into his chest and held him a little tighter. “I wanted to fix that but I missed the time. I promise we’ll fix everything else though! I promise we’ll reach Gravity Falls and we’ll save Grunkle Ford from Bill and we’ll stop the portal and everything will be happy!”

He couldn’t make a response for a long time. It took too long to get his breath and eyes back under control. He hadn’t even noticed his arms wrapping around Mabel until he had his head pressed against the top of hers. 

He could have stayed like that for a while. He had years of no affection to make up for but… “Ford? Is that what’s in Oregon?”

Mabel stiffened against him, but she didn’t release him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been hugged for this long. Filbrick did not approve of hugging except between spouses, and that had only been acceptable behind closed doors. 

“If… If I say yes, you’ll still go?”

He hadn’t considered that. He was heading to Oregon because he didn’t have anywhere else to go. He was heading to Oregon because that’s where Dipper was. He didn’t know much about that kid but he knew that Mabel loved and needed him. Twins shouldn’t be seperated. No one knew that better than him.

“‘Course, kiddo.”

She released him and sat back. She wrapped her arms around her own chest and looked cold and tiny. 

“He’s there. He’s, uh, he’s going to be in a lot of trouble.”

“What kind?” His tone was dark and dangerous. He didn’t mean it to be but it was. He hadn’t seen Ford in ten years. The last moment he’d seen him his brother had been turning his back on him. Still… No one messed with Ford. Ten years didn’t change that. 

Mabel laughed. The sound was too loud and too high and too nervous. It didn’t suit her. 

“I’m legally obligated to tell you ‘never mind all that.’” She sat thoughtfully quiet for a moment and tried to gather her thoughts. Stan, much to his own surprise, let her. “Seriously though, I can’t really explain. You wouldn’t believe me and that’s not your fault. Just know that we can fix it. We’re not too late.” It felt like she was telling herself that last bit. 

“What d’ya mean you can’t tell me? If Ford’s in danger I need to know how.”

Mabel pursued her lips in thoughts and knit a few stitches. “It’s… it’s really complicated. Dipper would do better but…” She exhaled noisily. “There’s this thing called Bill.”

_ Bill _ ? It was so ordinary. It was a dull name for someone who clearly freaked the kid out. She’d shuddered when she said his name and clutched her needles tighter. He’d seen those signs before. That was someone who had been hurt and didn’t want to even say the name for fear. 

He didn’t need to know anything else to hate this Bill guy.

He nodded when he realized she was waiting for a response from him. “Grunkle Ford’s doing research on the weird things in Gravity Falls. He was trying to figure out some weird equation thingy when he met Bill. He’s the biggest jerk ever. He lied to Grunkle Ford and made him think they were besties. But… he’s using him and lying to him. Not like you lie. When you lie it’s to tell stories or avoid the cops or keep us safe. Bill lies to get what he wants and he wants to destroy our world.”

“He’s a conman?” Nothing made sense. Well, Ford studying weird things made a lot of sense. His brother getting tricked did as well. He’d never been the best judge of character. He was too trusting of everyone. Call him smart and he was yours forever.

“Bill is a con thingy. He’s not a man. Or a person at all. He’s a demon?” She said that last bit to herself and sighed heavily. “Dipper would do this so much better. Bill is evil and we have to stop him before… Before he hurts Grunkle Ford.”

Stan put the car back in drive. They could go a few more hours tonight. He wasn’t that tired. Mabel’s fingers zipped along with her knitting. 

“Have you talked to him since… since the fair?”

He really shouldn’t be driving when Mabel was talking. She had a tendency to say things that caught him off guard. He didn’t know why it shocked him so much. If she knew Ford, if she knew about their childhood, and where they were, why wouldn’t she know the reason he wasn’t with Ford?

“No.” He didn’t mean to sound quite so gruff. Mabel didn’t take the growled word’s hint. 

“Never?” Her voice trembled and he could see her eyes grow big in his peripherals. 

“It’s not like he wants me to.” He bit out defensively. He didn’t want to talk about this. Not here. Not ever. Mabel had Dipper and it sounded pretty great but Stan didn’t. Stan had Ford. Well, he had Ford in the past. Now he had nothing and it was his fault.

That damn science project and his stupid, useless, worthless, hands. He’d screwed up everything in his life with an action that took him half a second. It shouldn’t be possible to ruin your life in less than a second. But if there was a way he would find it. It shouldn’t have surprised him that he did. None of the last twelve years should have surprised him.

It was funny to think that there was a time when he actually thought he’d make the millions. That he’d get rich and be allowed back into the family again. He was such a joke. 

“Grunkle Stan,” there was a hand on his arm that made something catch in his throat. “He loves you. He just forgets it like he forgets to eat or sleep. He forgets everything that isn’t his newest problem. Dipper’s the same way. They get so focused on something that they can’t see anything else.” 

She left her hand there for a minute until it was obvious she wasn’t getting a reply from him. “Besides,” she continued as she picked her knitting back up, “I have it on good authority that he still trusts you. When everything else in his life fails, he’ll still trust you.” 

“Not after the science fair.” He hadn’t meant to respond. He tried to catch the words but they slipped out of his mouth rebelliously. 

“That was an accident and really Great Grandpa’s fault.”

“An accident?” He could feel his eyes widen. He didn’t mean to sound so damn vulnerable either. His voice wobbled for crying out loud. But… It had been twelve years since that horrible night. Twelve years since he’d been literally thrown on the curb with a bag and a set of car keys. Twelve years since he’d been made homeless and alone. Twelve years since he’d lost his family. All over a split second mistake. An accident. In all those years he’d never once had anyone agree with him.

“Of course it was an accident.”

The car swerved and Stan decided it was time to pull the car over. He steered it over to the shoulder and put it in park again. Mabel was alternating looking at him and her knitting. There wasn’t a hint of doubt in her eyes or voice. She wasn’t being snarky or mean. She was sincere.

“Huh?”

She lowered her knitting to give him her full attention. “Of course it was an accident. You would never purposefully hurt him like that.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing. The sky was blue. Grass was green. Stan wouldn’t betray Ford. He’d always thought it was obvious until the accident. Then everyone had seemed to think it was anything but. 

“He’d just changed the plan on you.” Mabel continued. “Accidents always happen when we get scared and freaked out like that.” She picked at her knitting with a frown. Her entire demeanor seemed to slump. “I should know.” She mumbled.

“We?” There was nothing else to say. Not if he wanted to keep the tears in his eyes from falling. He couldn’t afford to let them fall. If they fell they’d never stop falling. Outside of a traumatic injury, Stan only let himself cry one day of the year. That day was half a year away. 

“Yeah.” It was said mournfully and suddenly she was crying. “It’s  _ all  _ my fault Grunkle Stan! I’m the reason everything happened! I gave him the rift!”

He didn’t know what she was talking about. None of it made sense. Still… She sounded like Ford when she cried. It was wretched and heart breaking. He wrapped her up in his arms as well as he could and didn’t mind that she got his jacket wet and snotty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Title for chapter 2 was from Status Quo by Starkids. I love that musical. The song for this chapter always makes me think of Mabel. It just feels like something she'd sing to her Dip-dop.
> 
> Mostly conversations this chapter. I'll try and get more actiony next chapter. :) I feel like Mabel wouldn't be able to keep something like that a secret for long but she'd try for Dipper.


	4. Run boy run! (They're trying to catch you)

\-----------------------------------   
-| D | I | P | P | E | R |-   
\-----------------------------------

He’d talked with McGucket for over an hour. He hadn’t really meant to. It was an incredible relief. He’d bitten off more than he could possibly chew by getting stuck in the past at this particular time period. 

He hadn’t meant to get stuck alone. He was supposed to have Mabel. Impossible things were always less impossible with her. She was the one that always laughed at his definition of impossible. T hough, if this summer had taught him anything it was that people were way too quick to think something was impossible.

He really should have expected it when he fell asleep. He hadn’t though. He’d let himself fall asleep and he suddenly wasn’t in the living room anymore. He was upstairs in the Mystery Shack’s attic. The room was cluttered with objects. There was a bookshelf laden with Mabel’s scrapbooks, a wall with photos and posters that should have been colorful and pertained to his sister and family. In the rest of the room were thousands of notes pinned to the walls. Each had something scribbled or drawn on it. There was string taped to most of them connecting to one or two or even five other notes. It was a huge conspiracy board he intimately recognized. Every memory or idea he had was tied to one. His bed was covered in a quilt with the Zodiac on it. In the center where Bill should have been was a quilted version of the third journal. 

He was in his Dreamscape. He’d had a long conversation with Ford about it before Weirdmeggedon. Dreamscapes and mindscapes were nearly identical, but the mindscape had access to memories and color. Dipper had only ever interacted with Bill in his own dreamscape.

“Well, well, well, well, well. Helllllooooooo Pine Tree!” Dipper spun around to see a floating yellow triangle in front of him. He was hovering on top of what should have been Mabel’s bed. He had on his top hat and was glowing in the gray surroundings. His single eye was locked on Dipper. 

“Bill!” Dipper snarled. He straightened up and propped his hands on his hips. Nothing here was real. He was onto this demon’s games. 

“Have we met?” Bill asked with a loud laugh. He flashed brighter as his laugh echoed around the attic room. The laugh cut off abruptly as Bill suddenly changed forms. He grew larger and turned black. His eye turned blood red and focused on Dipper again. 

Dipper felt his heart rate rise. He was running through that corridor again with Mabel. They were going to die. He would kill one of them. Pine Tree or Shooting Star? Which would die? 

(Please don’t hurt Mabel! Anything but that!)

He shrugged the fright off defiantly. They had beaten him. Bill couldn’t do anything. He wasn’t in this reality yet and they had killed him in the future. He was defeated. He was nothing.

“What have you done, Pine Tree?” He felt a strange prod at his mind and found himself smiling. He had forgotten the machine. What was it his Great Uncle had said? It would block his mind? It would stop Bill from entering his mindscape? Ford hadn’t let him leave the house for Grunkle Stan’s road trip until he’d gone through the full process.

“Why are you even here, man?” He asked instead of answering. He crossed his arms over his chest defiantly and tilted his head. Bill could scare him, but he was powerless in this realm. Dipper hadn’t invited him in. Not this Bill, anyway.

“You’re messing with my plans, Pine Tree.” He grew larger so that the only thing Dipper could see was the demon. Another flashback played before his mind’s eye. His Great Uncle being turned into a golden statue and the journals burning before his eyes. He forced that memory down as well and focused. He couldn’t let himself get distracted. He reached into his pocket where he kept a sock puppet - and had since that fateful day - and let it ground him. 

“What plans would that be? Plans to jump into our dimension? Plans to destroy our universe? Plans to use Ford’s portal to do that?” He smiled viciously. He had  _ never  _ had power in regards to Bill. The demon had always been in control. He’d always had all the power. 

Bill flashed brighter as Dipper spoke. He didn’t seem to like what he heard. Dipper didn’t particularly care. 

“Don’t toy with me, Pine Tree!” He snarled. “I. See. EVERYTHING!” His eye flashed into different scenes. Dipper being caught by Fiddleford, Dipper pulling his copy of the journal out of his backpack. 

“Do you?” Dipper asked quietly. He felt strange. There was fear; a lot of it, cold and intense. There was anger, burning and tight in his gut, but… There was a certainty too. A certainty thrumming in his chest that made him stand taller. He had defeated a lot of monsters this summer. He understood monsters in a way he typically didn’t get people. He got their motives and could typically use that to help them or defeat them. He’d gotten good at reading bluffs and facades. And right now? Bill was  _ scared _ . He was angry, of course, but he was uncertain and scared. This Bill didn’t know Dipper. This Bill didn’t know his relation to Great Uncle Ford. This Bill didn’t know what was going to happen. Dipper’s Bill had always been a step ahead of Dipper. He’d had all the cards. He knew what had happened, what the other residents of Gravity Falls were doing, and what needed to happen to be free. Dipper always found those things out after Bill. Usually because of something Bill had done. He was reacting where Bill was acting. Not now. Now he had a card Bill didn’t.

He knew how it ended. He knew what was going to happen and how to destroy the monster. 

“Do you really?” He asked again, a little louder. He uncrossed his arms and stepped closer to the demon. “Because I have a question for you then. Who am I?”

Bill flashed bright and large enough to fill the entirety of the attic room. Dipper didn’t back down. 

_ It's okay. I've done it before. Just take a deep breath, focus on your intellect, and control your fear. _

The memory came back to him randomly. His Great Uncle confident and steady as he aimed his gun at the approaching alien machine. He hadn’t defeated that thing then but he’d done it later. What was it he’d said? Do your worse? It was the same now. Nothing was taking his Great Uncle from him.

“You don’t scare me, Cipher. You can’t control me.” He gripped the puppet in his pocket and let it ground him. He was real. He wasn’t in the fearamid or in an alien ship. He was real and he was in the Mystery Shack. He was real and Bill didn’t have his body.

He imagined a giant portal behind Bill and had it start to pull the oversized triangle in. Bill’s eye widened in shock.

“ENOUGH!” The room whited out and they were standing in a bright void. “You are more clever than you look.” Bill said as he shrank back to his normal size. “So I'm gonna let you off the hook. You might come in handy later. BUT KNOW THIS: A darkness approaches. A day will come in the future when I will be free! Until then I'll be watching you! I'LL BE WATCHING YOU…”

He disappeared and Dipper was back in the Mystery Shack. Well, in the Shack. 

His hands were clenched around the sock puppet he’d kept in his pocket. He was holding it tightly enough that his fingers actually hurt. He exhaled shakily and forced his hand to relax.

He was okay. It was all going to be okay. Bill hadn’t done anything to him. He couldn’t.

He shoved the puppet back in his pocket. He rolled to his side and pulled the blanket closer. He forced his eyes closed and exhaled. 

Upstairs Ford’s eyes opened and began to glow with an eerie yellow light.

\------------------------

He fell asleep without noticing it. He was awake and excited and then he was dreaming. He was running through the woods with Soos, Wendy, and Mabel. They weren’t running for their lives (for once) but were here following the tracks of a centaur. They were in a race against Stan, Ford, and Fiddleford to see who could find it first. Their team had the clear advantage of Wendy who was the only one who ever thought of bringing something to chop through the undergrowth. 

They had just reached a moonlit clearing when he was suddenly awake. His heart was pounding in his chest and he had the unnerving feeling that he was being watched. His fingers tightened on the blanket and he squinted his eyes in an attempt to see what was going on. There was a shadowy figure at the end of the couch. It was tall and for a second he thought it must have been the hide-behind. 

No. It was too broad for that. He blinked and the figure came a little more into focus.

“Gre-Ford?” He asked hoarsely. He swallowed and sat up a little. Ford made no sign of having heard him. Something sparked along Dipper’s skin. Some sense he’d only just started to hone this crazy summer. 

_ Danger. _ It whispered. 

“Dipper.” The voice that spoke was his Great Uncle’s voice and at the same time was most definitely  _ not _ his Great Uncle’s voice. It was double layered. There was his Great Uncle’s deep and confident voice but underneath it was a higher, manic voice. Bill’s voice. 

Nope. He wasn’t doing this in the dark. He should have insisted on the attic. At least he knew how to bar that door. There was no door to this room. Just a lot of open space and one entrance that Bill/Ford was blocking. 

He reached into his backpack slowly and grabbed the flashlight he knew was at the top. Bill took a step forward as he reached for it. He gave up the slow movement and snatched the flashlight up. He turned it on in a quick, well practiced movement, and shone it at his Great Uncle’s eyes.

Yellow eyes caught the light. 

Dipper squeaked and was instantly horrified with himself.

“So, Pine Tree, let’s chat!”

Nope. Nope. Nope!

He jumped off the couch and snatched his backpack up by its handle. He kept the light trained on Ford as he backed towards the window. There was nowhere to go in this stupid room. 

“What do you want, man?”

“You. Gone. Leave now and I won’t injure you.” Bill responded quickly with his double layered voice. Dipper forced down a shudder. 

“What? Are you scared of me?” He laughed even though he didn’t feel anything humorous with his situation. “Bill Cipher scared of a kid?”  _ Technically a teenager. _ His mind murmured. He firmly told his subconscious to shut up.

“I’m a demon from another dimension, kid. I’ve seen weirder things than a noodle armed child being threatening.”

He was both furious that he had just been called noodle armed and terrified that Bill was blocking the exit. He gripped the flashlight tighter and tried to quell the panic rising in his chest. He really should take a page from Wendy’s life and get a weapon. Stan, Ford, and even Mabel were always armed. He’d been through a freaking weirdmeggedon. How had he not learned to at least carry something heavier than a flashlight? He’d had a taser at some point but he couldn’t remember what he’d done with it. And he’d given the Memory Gun to Ford. He’d never gotten that back.

Bill took another step towards him. Dipper was reminded of being stalked by Ford in his Great Uncle’s secret office. He’d thought he was just freaked out about Bill then but now he realized it was more than that. His Great Uncle was a big, imposing man. Dipper had gotten a lot stronger but he was not big. He wouldn’t be able to do a lot if Ford wanted to hurt him. 

It had been a terrifying sensation back then and hadn’t got less horrible with time.

“He doesn’t know yet, does he?” Dipper asked to distract the demon. He needed a moment to think of an actual plan. He really hadn’t anticipated getting Bill’s attention so soon. Which was an obvious oversight.

“Know what, Pine Tree?”

“That you’re not his friend.” The only thing between them was the table. If he ran for it Ford would be able to catch him. He needed an escape that wouldn’t injure Ford. He didn’t want to hurt him when the whole point was to save him from further harm.

Bill laughed and that more than anything else is what made Dipper act. He brought his foot up and placed it on the edge of the table. He shoved with all his might and heard his possessed Great Uncle give a grunt of pain before he fell forward onto the table. Dipper bolted over the couch’s arm and ran across the cushions before Bill could right himself. He ran for the back hallway and the room that would eventually be the gift shop. He locked the door behind himself and leaned against it. It was currently some sort of lab.

“Pine Treeeeeeeeeeee!” Bill/Ford’s voice called from the other side of the door. It made Dipper jump and turn around.

There weren’t a lot of options. He could run outside but it was snowing and he was still only wearing shorts. He didn’t like the idea of trying to survive outside in the cold. It was a long way to town and it was dark and there were a lot of things that went bump in the night in this town. 

He also did not want to leave Fiddleford alone with Bill. If Bill had seen them chatting he’d probably be aware that they were plotting.

He needed to trap him. 

“Mabel,” He muttered to himself so Bill hunting him down wasn’t the only thing he could hear. His voice was small and warbled but it was better than Bill’s cackle, “if you could show up right now, I swear I’ll watch Believe In Yourself for however many hours you want to.” He wrapped his arms around himself and shivered. He wasn’t sure if it was dread or cold but his skin was crawling. He didn’t have anything useful in the backpack. Not that he could think of. Journal? Useless. Rope? He could try for a trap but there wasn’t anything to tie it to. Shrinking flashlight? It might be usable but he’d have to get new batteries first. Weirdmeggedon had drained them. The President’s key was pointless as always. The Anti-love potion had no practical use. The sock puppet was not leaving his pocket. He had a camera, an EMF detector, a 38 sided die, a couple pieces of beef jerky, a bar of emergency chocolate, and at least ten chewed up pens. 

He could try and risk it outside long enough to climb to the roof. The window to the attic wasn’t installed well. He could probably break in there. If all else failed he could just break into Ford’s secret office in the basement again. 

“Ford?” McGucket’s voice sounded outside the room. There was a slight shuffle and then a gasp.

“Well, well, well, well, well! If it isn’t spectacles again! You're still here?” Bill’s voice cut through the air and made Dipper tense. His hand clutched the door knob uncertainly.

“Am I to assume you’re Bill?” 

“HA HA! Spectacles has a brain after all! For now at least! Don’t worry, abnormal soon will be the norm. Enjoy the calm before the storm!” He broke off in cackling laughter and it made Dipper’s skin crawl as memories flooded his mind. 

_ Pine Tree or Shooting Star? Which would be the first to die? _

“Where is Dipper?” Fiddleford asked quietly. 

“TOO LATE SPECTACLES!” 

There was a momentary pause and then a low and sickening thump followed by the sound of a body hitting the ground. Dipper panicked and ripped the door open. Ford was lying on the ground in a heap. Fiddleford was standing a few feet away. He was in a night robe and slippers with a thick book in his hand.

“Oh, bless my soul, you’re alive!” Fiddleford squeaked. He dropped the book and raised his hands to his mouth.

“Thank you!” Dipper jumped over his fallen Grunkle and went to McGucket. He tugged him backwards a few feet so they weren’t so close to Ford. 

“What do we do now?” Fiddleford asked. Dipper shook his head. He had no real idea. 

“I… He won’t believe us. Bill still has control. He’ll…” Dipper swallowed thickly and wrapped his arms around himself. He had no idea what to do. He’d wanted to spend some time earning Ford’s trust. Now they’d bashed him over the head and Bill knew he was an enemy. Whoop-dee-do.

What would Mabel do? What would Ford do?

“Can you lift him up?” Dipper asked after a heavy moment of silence. Fiddleford shrugged.

“Probably. I’m stronger than I look.” Now that was a fact. Dipper had seen old man McGucket do all sorts of crazy things. He’d lifted heavy things he had no business lifting. Apparently pig farming led to muscles.

“Alright. Let’s get him to his lab and lock him in. My Grunkle says that when someone goes down like that they’ll be out for a while. Hopefully it’ll be Ford next time he wakes. While he’s out we can make a list of the items we’ll need.”

Fiddleford shuffled towards Ford. He got a hold of him under his arms and hefted him up. 

“Items for what?” He asked once he had Ford mostly up. 

“A barrier.” Dipper grabbed Ford’s legs and lifted them up. He’d found a lot of chances to be grateful to the ‘Manliness’ lessons that the Manotaurs had given him over the summer. This was another one. Not that he believed in their ideas of ‘manliness’ but because they’d taught him how to make a workout routine. He’d gotten a lot stronger this summer and those muscles had come in handy.

Once he was certain of his hold he looked up at Fiddleford who was gazing at him curiously.

“In my time Ford put a barrier around the Mystery Shack that kept Bill’s malevolent weirdness out. I remember the ingredients and I think I can complete the spell that went with it. Some of the items are easy enough to get but a few are going to be elusive.”

“A spell?” Fiddleford sighed. “My Gran would be so disappointed in me.” He seemed to shrug his sorrow off and straightened as they made their way down the hall. “Ah well. I’m sure she’d be happy that we were doing it to stop a demon.”

Dipper didn’t have the heart to tell him it wouldn’t stop Bill. It’d just block him.

They somehow got Ford down the hallway and into his bed. Fiddleford covered him with a green quilt and after a moment of contemplation tied a jingle bell to his wrist. That was such a Mabel move that he felt an actual physical ache in his chest near his heart. He desperately hoped that she was okay. That the reason she wasn’t with him currently was because she was still in the future with their Grunkles. 

The idea of her being in this time but not with him was terrible. What had happened to her?

No. No time to focus on that. 

“So what’s step one of the plan?” Fiddleford asked. He shut the door to Ford’s room and locked it. He stuck another jingle bell on the door knob as well. 

“Sending a postcard to New Mexico.” Dipper answered. He led Fiddleford towards the kitchen and pulled his own journal out of his backpack. 

“Who’s in New Mexico?” Fiddleford went to the cabinet that held cereal in Dipper’s time and pulled out a tea kettle. He set it under the sink and filled it up with water.

“Stanley Pines. Grunkle Ford’s twin brother.” Dipper replied. He started to sketch out the Mystery shack so he’d know where to put the moonstone.

“His  _ what? _ ” Fiddleford paused between the sink and stove with a startled look. Dipper frowned and realized the obvious. Fiddleford didn’t know. Why should he? Everyone believed Stan was Ford. He’d lost his mind after Stan had arrived going by the dates on the memory videos. Unless he had erased Ford from his memory as well.

Either way, it wasn’t that surprising that Ford hadn’t talked about Stan. They hadn’t parted on good terms. 

(Please let Mabel be safe.)

“His twin.” Dipper set his pen down and focused on Fiddleford. “He was kicked out at seventeen due to an accident that cost Ford a chance at West Coast Tech.” He hated that school. He hated it so much. “Currently he’s sort of living in New Mexico. In a few weeks Ford would send him a postcard asking for help. He came up and tried to help. We’re going to need him for what’s going to happen.” He needed to be here. Dipper didn’t want to mess the timeline up more than he had. Stanley would be a week or so early but that was a minor detail. Hopefully. With the changes he’d already made Stanley arriving here early was a minor detail.

Besides, Dipper wasn’t going to leave his Grunkle behind. Stan could sugarcoat the story of his younger days all he wanted but it wouldn’t hide the truth from them. He had been homeless and a criminal. He didn’t know who the ‘Rico’ that Stan owed money to was but he could imagine the type. 

“How is someone sort of living somewhere?” Fiddleford asked. He set the kettle down heavily on the stove. Dipper got the distinct impression he was ignoring the fact that Ford hadn’t told him about Stan. 

“He’s technically homeless but he has a PO box there. He used it to receive mail from his mother and orders for whatever random item he was trying to hock.”

“Does Ford know that?” Fiddleford had a careful quality to his voice. He was pulling mugs out of the cabinet so Dipper couldn’t see his face.

“That he’s homeless? No. According to Stanley Ford got the address to send him a postcard from their Mother. He didn’t ask and Stan wasn’t going to tell him.”

And Dipper 100% got that. If he had a huge falling out with Mabel he wouldn’t want her to know he was homeless. Especially if the falling out was kind of mostly his fault. He wouldn’t want her pity. If she was homeless though he’d really want to know about it so he could help her out. 

(Please,  _ please, _ let Mabel be safe.)

\-------------------------------------------------------   
-| F | I | D | D | L | E | F | O | R | D |-   
\-------------------------------------------------------

“Alright. So we send him a postcard. What next?” Fiddleford set the mugs down a bit too loudly and dropped a tea bag in each. He had made a lot of angry cups of tea in his life but he didn’t think he’d ever made some when he felt so out of his element.

He was a pig farmer from Tennessee who had started his own Computer company in California. He’d spent most of his adult life out of his element.

But demons? What kind of world had he fallen into? Gravity Falls was weird but it had been mostly harmless. And, yeah. He knew that wasn’t true. He’d invented the memory gun for a reason even if he couldn’t remember what that reason was. He wanted to forget so many things in his life but Gravity Falls had driven him to a special kind of desperation.

There was a morbid kind of curiosity in him that wanted to know what he had seen that had freaked him out so badly. Was it as bad as seeing one of his best friends possessed? Was it as bad as seeing those glowing yellow eyes and that twisted smile aimed at him?

Those thoughts were as useful as a pig in the cornfield. He needed to focus.

The boy replied to his question in an absent kind of way. “We need to find some moonstone, mercury, and unicorn hair.”

“Unicorn hair?” Was he joking? That sounded like a joke.

Dipper grinned and looked up at him. His gaze spoke of fun and weird memories. Fiddleford had seen that expression on Ford’s face far too often. It made the boy look uncannily like his research partner. He could see and believe the family resemblance. The boy was even doodling something on a notebook that could have been a replica of Ford’s except that it was blue.

Should he be freaking out about all this? It felt like he should. Maybe he was too tired to freak out.

“Yep. Unicorn hair. There’s a grove not too far away that they live in.”

“Of course.” Fiddleford shook his head and slumped against the counter. He felt old and tired. He couldn’t do this on his own. He wasn’t brave enough. He knew that horrible truth about himself. He could erase his memories but he couldn’t erase that. At his core, he was a coward.

He missed his family  _ so much.  _ The longing had developed into a constant physical ache in his chest just above his heart. He made his longing obvious to Ford. The knowledge that Ford had a twin and had kept that secret also hurt. He couldn’t imagine going for ten years without talking to family. Any member of it. Sure, there were some nuts in his family tree but they didn’t bare cutting off. And a twin? What could possibly have happened?

He sighed and looked at the ceiling. “You know,” he finally said, “My son’s birthday is next week. I thought about trying to pay for him a ticket up here. I thought he’d like to see the snow.” 

He looked over to smile at Dipper but the boy was staring at his notebook. He was chewing on his bottom lip and looked worried. His body was tense and he was fiddling with the pen nervously. Fiddleford watched him for a long, silent moment, and realized the truth with a sinking stomach. Dipper knew his son. He’d already mentioned that he was aware of Fiddleford but he had barely touched on their history together. Just that he’d helped defeat Bill. 

Dipper blinked and seemed to realize he was being studied. He flushed and tried to smile.

“You know him in the future, don’t you?” He paused and added, “and me?”

Dipper dropped his gaze and fidgeted with the notebook. He started chewing on the tip of his pen without noticing.

Definitely Ford’s nephew.

“Dipper.” He inflicted as much of his ‘dad’ authority into his voice as he could. It always worked with Tate and it had even worked with Ford on occasion. 

“It isn’t a particularly happy story.” Dipper whispered. “But we’re going to change that. We’ve already started.” He risked a glance up. Fiddleford kept his gaze serious but not unkind. He could see the care in the boy’s eyes. “Yes, I know you both in the future.”

He decided not to push for anything more. “After we get the unicorn hair and the moonstone, then what?” 

Dipper dropped his gaze to the table. “Then we have to convince Ford that Bill is evil and destroy the portal.”

Well at least now he knew what the hard part was going to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sir Dipping Sauce is back, though I think he'd rather not be. At least not in this house ;) Seems like their initial plan (whatever it was) might have gone a little awry. Thankfully he isn't alone.
> 
> Last chapter title was "Hold on Forever" by Rob Thomas.


	5. The star maker says, it ain't so bad (The dream maker's gonna make you mad)

\----------------------------------   
-| F | O | R | D |-   
\----------------------------------

His head hurt quite a lot. He felt like he used to when Crampelter and his goonies would corner him in the library. Stan would take a few of them down but Ford always ended up getting hit anyway. Crampelter thought it was hilarious to aim for his glasses.

Sunlight was filtering into his bedroom so he’d slept in. He always tried to rise before dawn. Ever since he was a child he’d felt that intelligent people were early risers. 

He stretched a little and heard an odd jingling sound. A quick inspection showed that he had a christmas bell attached to his wrist. Fiddleford had insisted on decorating a little for Christmas incase he could convince his wife to take a quick trip to Gravity Falls. He’d ended up meeting them halfway at her parents house for two days instead. He’d added a few Hanukkah elements to the house despite Ford’s insistence that he didn’t celebrate.

“It won’t kill you to get into a little holiday cheer.” Fiddleford had encouraged. “Traditions are important and part of what makes us who we are.”

Regardless of all of that, it didn’t make any sense that he would be wearing a jingle bell. Furthermore, his wrist was covered in ink.

Had Bill visited him in the night? On the few days where Ford couldn’t work on the portal his muse had borrowed his body while he was asleep to further their research. 

He sat up stiffly and untied the jingle bell from his wrist. He pulled on a sweater and slipped his feet in his house shoes before treading toward the door. He twisted the knob and tugged to no avail.

“What’s up, IQ?” Bill appeared beside him with a flourish of his cane. He didn’t often appear to Ford outside of the Mindscape. He had occasionally appeared after working on the Portal equations.

“I appear to be locked in my room.” He gave the door knob another jiggle only to confirm that it was indeed locked.

“Is it that kid you invited in?” Bill asked. “He said he was with the circus, didn’t he?”

“Carnival.” Ford corrected automatically. Something akin to fear rose up in his chest. Had the boy tricked him and robbed them? He’d seemed intelligent and eager for adventure. Ford hadn’t even thought to mistrust him. Something about Dipper just seemed genuine. 

He banged on his door and called out while Bill hovered beside him. There was a dull thump like something hitting the wall. A moment later he heard the door unlocking. He tugged it open and peered outside. 

A sleepy Fiddleford was standing in front of him rubbing his eyes. He blinked a few times and squinted at Ford.

“Sorry about that. I meant to stay up and unlock you before dawn. I reckon I must have nodded off.” 

The fear dropped into shock. “ _ You _ locked me in?”

Fiddleford nodded his head. He was studying Ford intently and it would have made him uncomfortable if he wasn’t so shocked. 

“Yeah. You were sleep walking again. You fell down the stairs and nearly scared Dipper to death. He woke me up and we took you back up stairs. I heard you moving around again a few minutes later so I put a bell on you and locked your door.” He shrugged and pulled a pill bottle out of his pocket. “That’s how I always handled my cousin’s sleepwalking. I fancy you’ve got quite a headache.” He passed two tylenol to Ford. “That should help dampen the pain.”

Ford swallowed the pills dryly.

“I’m going to take Dipper to town so he can mail a letter and get some winter appropriate clothing. Do we need groceries?”

Ford shook his head no. Bill was flashing beside him which meant he wanted Ford’s attention. He couldn’t communicate with him right now. All things Bill made Fiddleford uncomfortable. He tried not to push his friend more than necessary. 

“Alright. Then we’ll head into town for breakfast. I want to get there early incase that storm decides it wants to hit.”

Ford nodded again. Gravity Falls had unpredictable weather, rather like everything else in the town. 

iddleford went across the hall to his own room and shut the door. Ford watched him for a moment before trudging towards the bathroom. He took care of his morning routine and trudged back out to talk with Bill and make some coffee.

He nearly collided with Dipper when he opened the door. 

“Hi Doctor Ford.” Dipper quipped cheerfully. “Can I get your help with a project later today?” 

“A project?” The boy was practically bouncing with excitement. His enthusiasm was contagious and made Ford feel like he himself was exciting. 

“Yeah! I found these crystals in the forest and I tried to fasten them to a flashlight but I’m having a little trouble with it.” He glanced down the hallway where Flddleford’s door was opening. “May I show you after we get back?”

Ford nodded his head with fascination. He was intrigued.

Dipper hung around him until Fiddleford left for town.

“Bill?” He asked to the air. His muse didn’t appear. He’d slipped away at some point in the morning. Something uncomfortable trickled down his spine. 

Had he upset his friend?

\----------------------------------   
-| S | T | A | N |-   
\----------------------------------

He’d be lying to say he was ‘eager’ to see Ford again. He was going to Gravity Falls to see him and he’d save him from anything but he was scared shitless to see him. So he didn’t put up any real resistance to stopping at obvious tourist traps on the way to his brother’s cabin in the woods.

He probably shouldn’t have stopped at the carnival though. It would delay them from reaching Gravity Falls until the next morning. He’d done it anyway. 

Aside from that though, he had a weird history with carnivals and circuses. He’d always found them fascinating as a child but they could hurt Ford’s feelings. Especially the ‘freak show’ portions. Then there was the freak show they visited when they were twelve. They’d been saved by those ‘freaks’ because his brother was one. Stan was a boring ‘normie’ as if he hadn’t spent all his life wishing he was abnormal like his brother.

He still ended up at the carnival. He couldn’t bring himself to say no to Mabel when she got excited about it. She seemed about as nervous as him to go to Gravity Falls. 

It was pretty standard fare as far as carnivals went. There were a few hokey games that Mabel was excited about, some food, and gifts. What caught his eye was the fortune teller's tent. 

He hadn’t seen one of those since Jersey. They were permanently tied to memories of his ma. Most of which were bittersweet. A few of which were truly painful.

For reasons he did not himself understand, he went inside it. The interior was covered in purple and red satin fabrics and she had incense burning in three different places. The result was a thick, smokey interior that made his eyes water. She’d put a few oil lamps on the floor to light up the room as well.

The fortune teller was… weird. She was short and elderly which weren’t surprising. Her nose was long and crooked and had several warts. Her brown hair was long and stringy like it hadn’t been brushed in ages. She was wearing a voluminous brown robe over her short frame. Her eyes were wide and unfocused. Her hands were mottled with long fingers that curled around a crystal ball.

“Welcome!” She squawked in a raspy voice. “Sit, sit!”

He took a seat across from her and tilted his head. 

“It’ll be a quarter for a palm reading or fifty cents for your future.”

Normally he’d con her into doing it for free or he’d choose the cheaper option. He didn’t particularly want this dame touching him and he was tired so he chose the latter. He fished fifty cents out of his pocket and deposited it on the table. She snatched the money up and beamed at him. 

“Thank you! I am the hand witch. Now, tell me your name stranger so I can zoom in on your future.”

“Harley Pinington.”

Her hands rotated around the crystal ball and it began to glow like ma’s. They’d rigged it up with a button on the ground. He wondered if she had a similar set up.

She sat up straighter and rolled her eyes into the back of her head.

“Llab latsyrc erutuf eht em wohs.”

He didn’t understand the gibberish but he had to give it to her, she put on a good show. She shuddered and the ball grew brighter. She blinked and looked down at the orb. She studied it for a long moment. She blinked again. Before he could react her hands shot out and grasped his where they rested on the table.

The hand witch looked at him with large, glassy eyes. He could see her orb reflected in their depths and it made a chill run down his spine.

_ Someon’s walking on your grave. _ That’s what his ma would say when he took a chill. He’d always found it funny as a kid. He didn’t care for the image in this dark, incense infused tent.

“You, Stanley Pines,” the hand witch finally spoke in a deep, raspy voice, “you are destined to die in flames.” She inhaled loudly through her mouth and kept talking. “Like Icarus your brother will rise too close to the sun but you’ll be the one to burn.” She hissed the final word and leaned towards him. Her grip on his hands tightened painfully. Those claw like nails dug into his skin. He grunted with pain and tried to free himself from her insistent grip.

“Knock it off, will ya?”

She sat back and gentled her grip though she didn’t release him. “You have many destinies before you. Only time will tell if you, like a phoenix, will rise from the ashes.” She blinked once more and released him. He scrambled up out of the seat and booked it out of the tent.

There was  _ so  _ much wrong with what had just happened.

“Grunkle Stan!” Mabel practically plowed into him with a squeal of delight. She had a corn dog, two stuffed bears, and a huge lollipop. She side hugged him tightly and pushed the corndog into his hand. “I won you this,” she shoved one of the teddy bears into his hand as well, “I’m naming mine Fenton Fluffles.”

“Fluffles?” He tried to sound cheerful but there was a tremor in his voice. 

“What happened?” She scanned the area suspiciously

“Nothing.” He took a bite of the corn dog to stop himself from jabbering. 

“You’re distraction eating!” Mabel accused.

“Am not.” Mabel ignored him and lifted the flap of the tent. She peered inside suspiciously. Stan, horrified, grabbed her shoulder and tugged her back No way that witch was giving Mabel a gloomy reading. He’d punch that hag in the crooked nose if she tried to tell Mabel she was going to die. She winced when she straightened. Stan released her.

“The hand-witch?”

“The what? You okay?” He was ignoring the tent and all of that nonsense in favor of the fact that Mabel looked like she had just been in pain. 

“Huh? Of course I am.” Mabel was now frowning in confusion. Stan poked her shoulder and she winced again. “That?” He nodded his head. “Just a bruise. I landed on my arm hard a couple of days ago. There was a thing with other Mabels. But that’s a rabbit hole I’m not going down.” She caught hold of his hand and dragged him towards the ring toss. “Come on. I know you’re able to beat the rigged games and I really want that mermaid so I can tease Dipper with it when I finally see him again.” Stan allowed himself to be dragged to the game without complaint. 

_ But you’ll be the one to burn. _

What did that old hag know anyway?

\-------------------------------

It was probably a bad idea but all ideas were good ideas until proven otherwise.

Ford not only lived in the woods, he lived in a town in the middle of nowhere. In that middle of nowhere town, he lived on the outskirts. And the outskirts of that town was in the backass end of the woods.

Seriously, it was like his brother had found the most remote spot he could and still be in a town. Which was such a Ford thing to do. He probably could list every weird thing with in fifty miles but didn’t know the name of anyone in the town.

So while they were driving on the back road of back roads he let Mabel try driving. He had to adjust everything for her shorter frame but that wasn’t a problem. He’d taught Ford to drive in this very car. There being snow around just made it more of an adventure. 

Mabel was going to be a wild driver. She had no fear of the gas and nearly plowed into a tree. She figured out the steering quicker than he thought she would. Apparently she’d driven a lot of golf carts. She could steer those with her feet. They made it to Ford’s house in once piece and Stan had to take a minute. It was a familiar looking structure even if he couldn’t place why. It was a wooden house that nestled into the surrounding woods. Snow was covering most everything to make it look like a christmas card cover. 

He took the keys back from Mabel and grabbed his sunglasses up. He mashed them over his face and hoped that would cover his fading black eye.

Mabel clambered out of the car bouncily and promptly stopped. Her eyes got big and she took a step back from him.

He was instantly on alert. “What is it, pumpkin?” He let his eyes scan the area and didn’t see anything alarming.

Everything about Mabel seemed to have shrunk. “Please,” she murmured, “Please, take off the sunglasses. I-uh-I need…” She swallowed and blinked furiously. There were tears gathering in her eyes. She looked almost frantic. Stan tore the glasses off his eyes and looked down at her. She instantly relaxed. “Sorry.” She blurted. “I have a thing about being able to see people’s eyes.” She turned her face away. “Last time I couldn’t some really bad things happened. I, uh… I let some bad things happen.”

He was entirely out of his element. 

“Like what?”

Mabel fidgeted. “So,um, I probably should have mentioned this earlier, but Bill can possess Great Uncle Ford.”

“What? Like the exorcist?”

Some of her old bounce seemed to return. She straightened up at least. “I never watched that. It was old and gross.” She shut the door and crunched through the snow towards him. She took his hand and tugged him towards the large house. It was a greater relief to have that contact than he thought it would. “Anyway. This might, um, stink a little. Just so you know.” 

“Kiddo, it’s two degrees out here and I haven’t talked to my brother in almost thirteen years. I didn’t expect a f-” he cut the expletive short and felt proud, “a celebration.”

Mabel eyed him like she knew what he was going to say as they climbed the front steps. “So when we meet him you can’t trust everything he says. Bill is a liar. He likes to make deals.” She sighed heavily and seemed to deflate. At some point he’d worm out of her just what that demon thing did to her that made her feel so damn small and scared.

She rapped on the door.

“Deals? Like tit for tat?” He was not  _ just _ asking the question to stall. He wanted to know the answer and he also wanted to stall.

“Deals like I get your body and you get a smashed laptop.” She wrinkled her nose. “Or nerd knowledge. I never really got why Great Uncle Ford made his deal. It got sciency and I kinda stopped listening.” She rapped her knuckles against the door again all the more loudly. “Dipper and him are like that. They babble about sciency and nerdy things like they’re interesting.” 

He laughed at Mabel and found the sound catching in his throat as the door actually opened. A bespeckled pair of brown eyes peered out at him. He could feel blood instantly draining from his face. 

Somehow he’d never actually believed this would happen and he didn’t realize it until this very moment. He believed Mabel was from the future and that they were related. Weirdly, it wasn’t even that hard to believe that part. Weirder things had happened to him as a kid and adult. The world was big and strange after all. 

He hadn’t believed that Stanford would be here. He would have found a more impressive outfit if he had. He might have even put some makeup on to cover his shiner and scars.

Ford blinked at him. He didn’t seem to see Mabel. “Stanley?”

“Heyya Stanford.” He tried to smile but it came out wobbly. His heart was hammering in his chest and he felt woozy. He hadn’t passed out since he’d been in Columbia. Well. Not without being drugged. He was not going to pass out on his brother’s steps. Even if he did feel a little too warm. He probably needed to change his bandages and use more antiseptic. Shit. He should have done that before he arrived here.

Stanford was there. He was two feet away. He was bigger than when Stan had last seen him. He had filled out that wiry frame. His hair was still in the same style and he still had the same glasses. He was wearing a trenchcoat and a sweater vest over a button up shirt. He had a book tucked in his pocket and an expression like a startled owl. 

Twelve years. He was looking at a man who was about to turn thirty. This man had been his best friend in the entire world and now Stan didn’t know him from Adam. Did he still drum the table when he was reading? Did he recite the digits of pi in his sleep? Did he still try and sneak chocolate when no one was looking? Did he still snort when he heard a good pun?

He’d imagined this moment a million times. He’d find Ford when he  _ finally _ had a million bucks and greet him. Ford would step towards him, arms raised for an embrace. He’d wrap his arms around his twin and Stan would  _ finally _ be home. 

Instead he was freezing his tail off on a porch in front of a man that might as well have been a stranger.

Ford blinked at him a few times before looking down at Mabel. She was still holding Stan’s hand with her mitten covered one. She had a cheerful smile and didn’t seem fazed in the least. Ford’s eyes got impossibly wider.

“Is she-is she your daughter?”

“My  _ what? _ ” Stan sputtered. He dropped his eyes down to Mabel who looked like she wanted to laugh. The thought had never crossed his mind that she might be mistaken for his daughter. “She’s thirteen, Stanford. What do you think I did? Knock up someone before I got kicked out? Things weren’t that good between Carla and me.” Ford just continued to blink owlishly. “No. She’s not my kid.” You always had to be clear with Ford. He didn’t always get sarcasm and hints.

Ford frowned and raised a pompous eyebrow. “You two look alike.” Stan rolled his eyes. That was such a bad argument. 

“She looks like you too, poindexter.” His brother stiffened at the childhood nickname. Stan inwardly cursed himself. He hadn’t meant to be familiar. It just slipped out. 

“May we come in?” Mabel cut in before Stanford could say anything. Her tone was very polite and she had the cutest puppy dog eyes. It was not fair that she could pull that expression off at thirteen. Stan had stopped being able to pull it off by the time he was eight.

“I-now isn’t really a good time.” Ford stuttered. 

“Come off it, Ford. It’s cold as ass out here and I can’t have her catching… a cold.” He trailed off and turned around. There was something  _ wrong. _ He’d bet his car on it. Something had been there. He knew it. All he saw right now was an expanse of white snow and the pine trees that lined the property. The sight of the empty land did nothing to ease the sudden fear or the distinct feeling of being watched. He knew it well. One of the first things he’d learned on the streets was to trust his instincts. The human body was aware of a lot of things that the brain took a while to filter into clear thoughts. That was the reason you tended to know if someone was behind you. And right now his instincts were screaming at him that there was something bad. Something dangerous.

“I’m sorry, I was rude.” He turned back to see Mabel smiling at his brother while she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “I should have introduced myself. I’m Mabel.” She stuck her free hand out to his brother with a trusting smile. He realized he hadn’t told her about Ford’s extra finger but, then again… If she knew who he was, she should know that. 

Ford clasped the hand automatically. 

“Ooh!” Mabel gushed with a beaming smile, “I like it! A whole finger friendlier than a normal shake!”

Ford blinked at her in shock before a smile slowly stole over his lips. Of course it wouldn’t take her more than a few sentences to charm him. Kid was a natural.

“Very well.” He straightened and stepped aside. “You two can come in.” He motioned for them to enter. “My uh, research assistant should be home shortly.”

“I have hot chocolate, if that helps.” Mabel added. “I even have secret marshmallows and sprinkles we can add!”

With the random shit that girl carried in her bag he wouldn’t be surprised to see her pull out an animal. Actually, he should probably ask about that. If she had stowed an animal away it might need food. Or air. Or to have some sort of craft supply removed from it’s fur.

Mabel entered first with Stan following. She didn’t let go of his hand or loosen her grip on him. Which was a good thing because he couldn’t really make his body work. He’d blame it on the snow if anyone asked.

The entryway was crowded with stuff. There was a coat rack and shoe rack full of random articles of clothing and a few boots. There was a skeleton standing near the coat rack with a few hats and scarves draped over him. 

He led them further into the house. There was a staircase to the right that led to something he couldn’t see. To his left was what looked like a living room or a study. Whatever the difference between those two things was.

Ford led them past that and towards the kitchen. He motioned for them to sit at a little table which Stan did gratefully. His side was burning like a bitch and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stand much longer. There didn’t seem to be a lot of air in here. 

Ford hadn’t looked back at them. He’d motioned towards the chairs and then gone to the cabinet. He pulled out a few mugs and set them on the counter. He stood still for a moment with his palms flat on the counter.

“Are you going to be in Gravity Falls long?”

“We’re going to be here for a while.” Mabel answered cheerfully. “Stanley is replacing Ma and Pa at the Dusk 2 Dawn.” Stan snapped his head towards his grand niece. He had no intention of getting a job here. Especially not at a convenience store.

“You are?” There was a tone to Ford’s voice that Stan didn’t like. He wasn’t sure what it was but it wasn’t particularly kind. It wasn’t quite judgy. It felt like the last time they talked. Or shouted. Stan could never really remember if he’d said anything during that debacle. He just remembered one person after another screaming at him before he was finally colliding with the road.

“Yep!” Mabel continued before he could get a word in. “They’re fed up with the ‘boom boom music’ the ‘youngsters’ are playing and want to retire further to the south. We didn’t even know you lived here until Ma Pines told us.”

\-----------------------------------   
-| F | O | R | D |-   
\-----------------------------------

Stanley was sitting in his kitchen. His twin brother had come to his house with a child.

It had been ten years! No… wait, had it been longer than that? Had it been twelve years? Or thirteen? It had been less than thirteen because Stan had made it obvious that he hadn’t been kicked out that long ago.

Stanley was sitting at his table with a thirteen year old who looked like him. She had a sticker on her cheek that matched the one that was on Stan’s jacket.

His brother looked older. Ford was aware that he looked older as well. They were no longer 17 year olds after all - but Stan looked much older. He had a rough, weathered, look that made Ford uncomfortable. His right eye was bruised and he had a scar on his left cheek. He was wearing a knitted cap but Ford could see the mullet hidden under it.

His twin’s clothes were in poor repair as well. The girl looked well dressed enough. She was wearing a homemade sweater and a skirt that was a little impractical for the current weather but she was clean and appeared healthy. 

Stan was sitting behind him. It didn’t feel real. His twin had been gone for years. Ford had never heard a word from him. Ma had said something when he’d called her last, hadn’t she? When had that been? It had been warm outside, hadn’t it? Summer? Spring?

He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t even remember what she had told him about Stan. He hadn’t paid much attention. He hadn’t cared. He was too busy with the portal and his discoveries to worry about what nonsensical thing his estranged relatives were doing.

Stanley’s jacket had been repaired with red yarn. It looked a little threadbare and dirty.

He realized distractedly as he tried to put some water in a kettle that he was, perhaps, shocked. He couldn’t quite seem to focus properly. 

How could Stan be here? It had been at least a dozen years!

And he had a ‘job’ in town. It was  _ such _ a Stan thing to do. Appearing at his doorstep with some child that looked like him and a job a few feet from Ford. He had always been suffocating in his need to be near. Always hanging about in Ford’s area. Riding on his successes and demanding Ford’s attention.

It was all so insufferable. He had already wasted the entirety of yesterday doing nothing. Dipper had been an entirely unexpected delay, if not an unpleasant one. It was only thanks to Bill that any work had been done at all. He’d kindly taken lead while Ford was asleep and completed a few pages of calculations that still needed to be done. He’d had very little chance to look over the notes as he’d had to spend his morning reassembling a few pieces of equipment Fiddleford had taken apart for some reason.

He was so tired.

“So ma told you my address? Was that before or after you received the job?”

He heard the girl start to form a word but his brother cut her off. 

“She told me after I told her I was relocating to Oregon. She mentioned you lived in… Road Kill county and it took me a while to realize that was where Gravity Falls was.”

“So,” Mabel cut in chipperly, “what sciency things are ya doing here?” He looked over his shoulder to see her slipping her arm around Stanley’s arm. “Gr-good old Stan told me that you were super smart with a million different degrees. Ooh! Should I call you Doctor Ford? I never called you Doctor before!” Stan cleared his throat loudly and Mabel inhaled sharply.

“While I am a doctor I seldom use the title.” He set the kettle he had forgotten to pour water in onto the stove and turned it on. He then turned to face his brother. The girl was whispering something to him. He had wide eyes and looked even paler than when he’d come in. 

Ford couldn’t handle this right now. 

“If you’ll excuse me. I have some delicate research I must attend to. I’ll be back in a moment.” He turned on his heel and practically ran from the room. He ran to his study and shut the door behind himself before pausing and locking it as well. 

He dropped onto the floor right there and assumed the meditative pose. There were several pieces of Bill memorabilia in the room so it should have a strong enough signal for his muse to appear.

He entered his mindscape and jogged through the whirling galaxy of stars and books. The chess table floated in front of him with the partially completed game. He took his seat and waited for two breaths before calling out into the constantly moving space.

“Bill!”

His muse appeared immediately as he always did when Ford needed him.

“Hiya, Smart guy. What’s up?” Bill gave the chess board a cursory glance before toying with a piece. Ford didn’t pay any attention to it. 

“There’s a problem. My estranged brother has shown up.”

Bill’s hand stilled on the rook. His eye focused on Ford with sudden intensity. 

“Shermie?” He paused and set the rook down. “Not Stanley surely. Not the man who betrayed you and ruined your dreams.”

Ford nodded his head and realized his hands were trembling. “This could not come at a more inopportune time. We’re with in a week of being able to do a human test on the Portal.” He huffed in irritation. “Stanley is not the most gentle with experiments.”

“Nope.” Bill agreed. He knocked Ford’s knight over. “He’s reckless.” He studied Ford who felt like his panic was obvious. He couldn’t still his fingers and he knew his breathing was erratic. He didn’t have to breathe in his mindscape but his physical body was not relaxed. 

Bill’s form tilted slightly. “Does he know about the portal?”

Ford shook his head. “No. He wouldn’t understand even if someone told him.” A memory came unbidden to his mind. He was in his childhood bedroom finishing the last touches on a research paper. He rubbed his tired eyes and stretched. The door was suddenly thrown open and Stan burst in with a bowl of popcorn and a cup of lemonade. 

“Sixer! Did ya finish the report yet?” 

Ford nodded his head and yawned. He spoke around it. “Nearly. I’m writing about Plato’s use of the dodecahedron.”

“Dodecky what?” Stan plopped down on his bunk and put a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

“Dodecahedron.” Stan passed the bowl towards him. 

Bill appeared beside him. “Hmm. He was always slow, wasn’t he?”

Ford watched the scene with a sense of melancholy that was slowly evolving into frustration. Stanley was always around when Ford was trying to think. He could picture his brother waiting impatiently for Ford to finish so he could copy a sloppier version of the report for a passing grade.

Bill hummed. “You’re right, smart guy. He could be a big problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter was Run boy run by Woodkid. 
> 
> I had _so_ much trouble with this chapter. I ad to rewrite it a bunch. I wanted to get it out last week for the 'Burn' of Stanuary but I was too slow. I'm probably going to be a week behind on each of them. Ah well.   
> But, woohoo! The first chapter with team Mabel&Stan in the Mystery Shack!


	6. Open the Door Let The Wild Come In

\-----------------------------------   
-| M | A | B | E | L |-   
\-----------------------------------

Ford dashed out of the room and slammed the door to the secret study. It was probably a normal study right now but it would always be a secret study in her mind. Besides, a secret study was way cooler than a normal study. 

Stan swayed a little in the seat beside her. He had lost all his color and there was sweat beading on his forehead. He looked feverish and stressed. Kind of like he had when the Federal Agents had stopped by the shack. Also like he had after the zombies when he was hurting and hadn’t wanted them to know. She probably should have made him change his bandages. 

She thought about telling him where the bathroom was so he could change it but she knew he probably wouldn’t. Instead she pushed herself away from the table and gave Stan’s hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing it. His head snapped towards her and his eyes widened in alarm.

“Where ya going?” He tried to mask it but she could hear the panic under the surface. Silly Yunkle. She wasn’t going anywhere. She’d spent half a week trying to get here. She’d convince him she was here to set things right eventually. Even if she didn’t convince him, things would be set right and he would be happy so it’d be a win-win regardless.

Mabel offered him a large smile and pointed towards the stove. “I’m going to make us hot chocolate. Great Uncle Ford was a silly head and put the kettle on the stove without water.” She’d done that once and burnt the kettle. The house would smell like burning metal anytime she’d tried to use it after that.

Stan nodded stiffly. “Right. Water.”

“Do you need any more pain killers for your cut?” She grabbed the kettle up and stuck it under the sink. She filled it with water and let her gaze travel to the window. 

Gravity Falls was  _ adorable _ in the snow. Mabel loved it. She wanted to bottle the whole thing up in a snow globe and keep it in her pocket. That was probably impossible though so she would have to settle for several pictures. She’d force her grumpy Grunkle to pose for her. She could get him to do it. She was sure. Maybe she could get a few pictures of the original mystery twins. That’d be fun.

Stan muttered a no to her early question that she was pretty sure she was going to ignore. He never took medicine unless they hid it in his food. She kind of understood why now that she knew he would spend his nights working on the portal. He couldn’t afford anything that would make him tired or loopy.

Right now she was pretty sure he wouldn’t take the medicine because he was nervous. She didn’t blame him. She was nervous too for different reasons. She was kind of terrified to discover Dipper wasn’t here. It was quite probably the worst thing ever. And she had spent several days in an actual apocalypse. 

It all stunk as much as Unicorns did because not only did she  _ really  _ miss her twin, Dipper had half their stuff. She wasn’t sure how to convince her Great Uncle Ford of anything. She could talk paranoid Dipper down but she couldn’t talk a paranoid Ford down yet. She hadn’t had that many chances to spend one on one time with Great Uncle Ford.

To make it all worse, at some point her fun with Grunkle Stan had stopped being fun around the carnival. Something had happened and her Grunkle had gotten twitchy.

She struggled with twitchy Grunkle Stan. Twitchy Grunkle Stan had sad thoughts about everything and let himself think mean things about himself. Twitchy Grunkle Stan had shown up a lot around the portal incident. It always made her want to go back in his head and punch the sad thoughts away. She loved him even when he was sad but she hated that he was so often sad. 

And now they were here and it was not going as well as she wanted it to. She’d put a bit of thought into a story and it seemed to work. She’d hoped it would make her bro-bro proud.

(Where  _ was _ he? He was supposed to be here! They’d made a promise to each other.)

Instead she’d seemed to freak Great Uncle Ford out and make Stanley even twitchier. And to top the terrible sundae off, she’d kind of tied them to the Dusk 2 Dawn. There was no way she was going in there. Even thinking about the shop had her feeling Pa’s cold hands dropping on her shoulders. She could remember the chill of his mind controlling her own. His voice coming out of her mouth. 

Nope. She was not going there. 

It felt a little like failing but she couldn’t tell Dipper that he had to take care of his mental health and not take care of her own. She’d just have to find a way around it. 

“My brother got any friends?” Stan asked. She jumped where she was standing by the stove because Grunkle Stan was suddenly right there. He put a hand on her shoulder and pointed towards the window. A car was parking next to the house. It looked vaguely familiar and it took Mabel a few breaths to realize she recognized it from Old Man McGucket’s home in the dump. 

“McGucket!” She gasped. She snagged her Grunkle’s hand and jerked him towards the back door. She reached it before the inventor did and tugged it open. 

“Mabel?” She barely had time to register the voice before something was barreling into her. Stan grunted but Mabel was no longer listening to him. 

She knew the voice as well as her own and couldn’t stop the tears that sprang to her eyes. She wriggled around in the tight grip until she was able to wrap her arms around him. The tears made his shape blurry but she recognized his silly hat even if the sweater was unfamiliar. 

“DIPPER!” She squealed and squeezed her arms around him. She let him take her weight as she kicked her legs up joyfully. He wrapped her up in return (he always wrapped her up safely in return.) and pat the back of her head when she started to sob. She hadn’t seen him for nearly  _ four  _ full days. They hadn’t been separated for more than fifteen minutes since Weirdmeggedon. This had been horrible. 

“Mabel!” He exclaimed into her hair. “You’re here!”

“Dipper?” The new voice was slightly familiar but not enough that she could place it without looking. That would involve letting go of Dipper so whoever was speaking was going to remain a mystery. She squeezed her brother tighter and let out a sobbing laugh when he choked. Her twin managed to wiggle free enough for a little air.

“Uh, right. This is my twin. Mabel.” He gave her a tight squeeze. “Mabel, this is Fiddleford McGucket.”

That was probably the only thing that could have gotten her to pull away a little from Dipper. She lifted her head away from his shoulder (he smelled just as stinky as ever) and saw a young McGucket looking at her expectantly. He was the image of the man in the memory video. Young and sane and right in front of her.

“Oh!” She squealed. She shoved a hand towards Young Man McGucket and beamed. “It’s so nice to meet you!” She kept her left hand firmly latched onto her brother’s arm. Fiddleford didn’t see the offered hand. His eyes were on the man beside her.

“Mabel?” Stan asked. His expression was uncertain and his knuckles, which were raised, were shiny. Had he been wearing his knuckle dusters the whole time? No, even Stan wouldn’t wear them to meet Ford. Probably.

“Grunkle Stan!” She motioned for him to step up like he wasn’t already standing there with the intention of decking her twin and new/old friend. “Grunkle Stan! Look! It’s Dipper! Dipper is here!” His face went through a series of weird emotions before blanking as he looked down. 

“Stan?” Dipper whispered to her. She nodded her head. Mabel extended her arm towards him and managed to snag his sleeve. She tugged him closer and he went along unhappily. He was eyeing Fiddleford suspiciously. He couldn’t quite seem to look at Dipper. His face had twisted with emotion when he’d tried.

“Well butter my biscuits.” Fiddleford finally managed, “You must be Stanley Pines.” He stuck his hand out towards Grunkle Stan and Mabel noticed it was bandaged. It was one of the bandaids that Dipper always carried. He started keeping them after the Summerween Trickster.

Stan considered the hand extended towards him. Mabel nudged his hand with her knuckles and he extended it. 

“Who are you?”

“Fiddleford Hadron McGucket.” He raised an amused eyebrow and smirked. “My parents were pig farmers with a strange sense of humor.” He released Stan’s hand. “I work with your brother. You two are near identical save for the cleft chin, huh?”

“Ford?” Stan choked. He shoved his hands in his pockets and a hangdog expression contorted his face before he managed to hide it.

She was  _ so _ tired of seeing her Grunkle look that way when it came to Ford. No one should ever have to look like that over their twin. She couldn’t imagine being that scared just to talk about Dipper. She’d done some terrible things to him too! But… being scared to confront her twin? That was…

She tried not to grip Dipper’s arm too tightly but she couldn’t really help it. Dipper winced and pried her hand off his arm. He then clasped her hand with his own.

“Yessiree.” Fiddleford nodded. “And while I truly wish we were being acquainted over nicer circumstances, I’m assume this charming little miss has informed you of what’s transpiring up here?”

“Sorta?”

Dipper shivered and Mabel frowned. “Let’s get inside.” She turned on the spot and tugged her Grunkle and twin along. Fiddleford followed with his bags. 

“Where is Ford?” the inventor asked as he came in and looked around. Mabel shrugged. 

“He got all weird and went towards his secret study after we got here.” She reached the stove and realized that she couldn’t put the kettle on without releasing someone. Fiddleford seemed to piece her dilemma together and put the full kettle on the stove. Mabel dragged her boys to the table. She released them just long enough for them to sit down before she reclaimed their hands.

“I reckon we don’t have much time before Stanford rejoins us.” Fiddleford mused from the stove as he grabbed out a few more mugs. 

“Did Mabel tell you about Bill?” Dipper asked. Trust her twin to cut through the small talk. She wanted to pinch his cheek and boop his nose. She was mildly disgruntled that he was wearing some store bought sweater but she would remedy that as soon as she finished her other sweater. She’d had a design in mind for him for a while now. 

Stan nodded stiffly in answer to his question. He was wearing his con face. The one he wore when he was listening to someone in the Mystery Shack ramble but he didn’t want to let on what he was thinking. He used it a lot when he was nervous.

“We haven’t confronted G-Stanford yet.” Dipper paused and glanced at Mabel. “Does Stan know-”

“That we’re his future family? Yep!” She tried to sound cheerful and not like she wasn’t supposed to have done that. From what she could tell Dipper had told Fiddleford but she wanted to avoid trouble if she could

Dipper shrugged. “Fiddleford knows as well. Great Uncle Ford doesn’t. He, uh… He-”

“He tried to attack us last night.” Fiddleford supplied. He took a seat across from Stan. “There isn’t time to beat around the bush or gild this particular lily. We have to tell it like it is.” Fiddleford looked Stan dead in the eye. “Your brother made some sort of pact with a dream demon and has given him access to his mind and body. That thing is trying to use your brother and myself to create a portal between his reality and our own.” He glanced at the study door. “We have a nearly complete portal in the basement. We have all the parts and only need to finish the calibrations.”

Stan was stiff beside Mabel. She changed her grip on his hand to weave their fingers together and squeezed. He didn’t seem to notice. She turned her attention to Dipper. He caught her gaze and tried to smile. It came out wrong and nervous.

“I’m fine.” He mouthed. She frowned. She’d believe that after she checked him herself. He’d claimed to be fine after Weirdmeggedon and that had been an ugly lie. 

“What kind of portal?”

“One to Bill’s dimension. He intends to use it to enter our own dimension and take over.” Fiddleford supplied. Everyone sat silently for a moment while Stan worked through that.

“Does he know?” Stan finally managed.

“That Bill is evil? No. That he attacked us? Also no.” Fiddleford turned his gaze on the study door and squinted. “I put a bell on him after we got him upstairs and put one on his door. We told him he was sleep walking and fell down the stairs. He seemed to believe us which also means Bill hasn’t told him anything. Yet.” Fiddleford exhaled noisily and stood up. “How long has he been in there?”

Dipper gasped. “Oh man, you’re right!” Mabel was missing whatever conversation Fiddleford and Dipper where having. She was used to being the one who could hold entire conversations with her twin out of half sentences. It was disgruntling to have it happen without including her.

Fiddleford didn’t bother to fill anyone else in before he was at the study door. He tried the handle and found it locked. He promptly knocked on it. 

“Stanford? You in there?” His face did something weird and he glanced back at the trio. He knocked again. “You have some explaining to do.”

“I could pick it.” Stan and Dipper said in unison. Mabel laughed as their eyes met.

“Now I believe you’re my nephew.” Stan gruffed. Dipper snorted.

“You did gift me the picks.” 

Fiddleford waved his hand at them as the door opened. He stepped back to allow Ford out of the study right as the kettle gave a shrill whistle. 

Everyone jumped. 

“Ah,” Ford said after a very tense moment. “I see you’ve met-”

“Your twin brother?” Fiddleford asked accusingly. “Stanford Filbrick Pines, how could you possibly keep quiet about that?”

Stan stiffened. Mabel frowned while she waited for some sort of a response. No one said. Anything. It was  _ so quiet. _ She couldn’t take it.

“Wow!” She blurted. “Talk about an awkward silence.” She gave it a beat while she felt her brother cringe beside her. She didn’t care. She was doing it anyway. “Bwah!” She shouted. 

Stan, to her utter delight, laughed. 

\-----------------------------------

-| D | I | P | P | E | R |-

\-----------------------------------

Dipper  _ hated _ awkward silences. He also  _ hated  _ the way the shack currently felt. It felt like the atmosphere had thickened since they’d arrived. He hadn’t noticed it when they got inside but that was probably because he’d been so excited to see Mabel.

How had she even gotten here with Stan? If anyone was able to bring Stan here, it would have been Mabel, but  _ how? _

Ford was still standing in the middle of the kitchen blinking owlishly at everyone. Fiddleford was standing a little too stiffly to be natural and Stan was trying to stifle his unexpected laugh. Mabel looked like the only one comfortable in the room.

“We’ll talk about that later.” Ford said simply. It took Dipper a moment to realize he was talking about the fact that Fiddleford didn’t know Stanley existed. For his part Dipper was just impressed Fiddleford remembered he wasn’t supposed to know about Stanley’s existence. He had too many things going on in his head to keep anything straight.

Ford stared at them like he wasn’t sure how any of them had gotten in the house. He had a distinctly frazzled look Dipper recognized from the days after Weirdmeggedon. He didn’t do well with too much stimulation when it wasn’t expected. Stan seemed able to draw the frazzle out of Ford like no one else. 

“We brought lunch.” Fiddleford added after a moment of silence. “Manly Dan said the storm is supposed to hit this afternoon. He advised we bring in some firewood and fill a few containers with water ‘cause the electricity might not hold. ”

Ford blinked again. “It is?”

Mabel gasped with dramatic delight. “It’s  _ snowing _ .” Every head turned towards the nearest window to confirm that, yep, it was indeed snowing. Huh. Weird. It should have been August right now by his time. 

“Shit.” Stan muttered. Dipper winced in sympathy. The Stanmobile didn’t have four wheel drive. They’d be stuck here.

Which was kinda the point, right? They weren’t supposed to leave now that they were here.

“Well I’ll be darned, that kid was right. Dang. He should market that.” Fiddleford stated cheerfully. He shuffled to the island and opened the bag on it. Dipper noticed him subtly tuck the bag with their thermometers away. They hadn’t been able to find the moonstone. They were going to try the next town over tomorrow. If it didn’t snow too badly he’d try and get Stan to take them. It’d be less conspicuous than having Fiddleford miss two days on the portal. 

Fiddleford pulled out a box of hamburger helper and a packet of beef. He filled a pot with water and set it next to the kettle. Mabel hopped up and skipped to the counter. She grabbed the mugs and brought them to the table where she filled them up with Hot Chocolate. 

“Stanley?” Fiddleford said cheerfully. Stan looked up tensely. “Would you watch this pot for me? I got a few things to talk with Stanford about.”

He walked around the island and grabbed Ford’s arm. He led him towards the living room. The door swung shut behind him.

“Okay,” Dipper said as he turned toward his Grunkle and sister. “We found some mercury thermometers but we couldn’t find any moonstone.”

“Huh?” Stan stammered. Mabel pat his arm reassuringly.

“In the future we made a barrier to block Bill. We wanted to do it again so we could convince Ford Bill is evil without having to worry about him being possessed while we chatted.”

“You haven’t told him anything yet?” Stan demanded. He suddenly looked irritated. 

“No?” Dipper glanced at Mabel who shrugged. No help there. She was just as clueless. “I didn’t want to tell him if I could avoid it.” Truthfully, he’d wanted Ford to believe him just for being him. He didn’t want to have to pull the future card. Ford hadn’t trusted him for most of the time they’d known each other. He hadn’t trusted anyone. Dipper knew “Trust No One” was Ford’s mantra but it still hurt to not be trusted. He’d struggled to get Ford’s attention, and then he’d fought to have his opinion and ideas heard. It wasn’t until he was facing down an alien droid that he felt trusted.

It was an intoxicating feeling and he really wanted to be trusted by Ford without having to go to such lengths.

“Dip-Dop,” His gaze turned to Mabel while he refocused his mind. He always had more trouble focusing when he got sleepy. Mabel waited until he was looking at her before she continued, “when did Fiddleford start the society?”

_ Why did everyone keep asking him the questions? _ At what point was it determined that he knew everything? He was in the 1980’s for crying out loud. He didn’t know anything about this time period! He had been flying by the seat of his shorts since he got stuck here. Nothing had gone according to his plan! He was supposed to have Mabel and it was supposed to be summer. They were supposed to be here before Fiddleford saw the stupid Gremoblin and started his stupid society. Instead they’d been separated and dumped in the middle of winter. And-wait, did Mabel have the Time Tape? Maybe they could just go back to the time he’d actually wanted to be in.

“I don’t know. Do you have the time tape?”

Mabel’s mouth dropped open. “You mean you don’t have it?”

Hot. Belgian. Waffles. They couldn’t get a break.

“Time tape?” Stan parroted in confusion. Dipper ignored him for the moment.

“Okay. We’ll deal with that later.” He swallowed and shoved that entire problem in a box in his mind for later consideration. “Grunkle Stan, you know Great Uncle Ford better than-”

“No, I don’t, kid.” Stan cut him off. “I mighta known him at one time but I have no idea who that guy is.” He shrugged a little deprecatingly. “I don’t know what ya want from me but I can’t tell you what he’s thinking.”

Mabel’s gaze drifted towards the door nervously. 

“That’s not entirely true.” Dipper stated before continuing. “I was going to say you know him better than me. Do you think Ford would listen if we told him we were from the future?”

Stan paused and actually considered what Dipper was asking. He was pale and sweaty and didn’t look particularly good. Not in a ‘he’s ugly’ way but in a ‘he’s sick’ kind of way. 

“No. I don’t think he would. Not without proof.”

Mabel slipped away from the table and went to the door.

“Would his journals and some futuristic tech be enough proof?”

“I can’t tell you, kid.” He glanced at Mabel who was bouncing on her heels in front of the door uncertainly. Something in his gaze softened before hardening with determination as he watched her. “It was enough for me.” He turned his gaze back to Dipper and seemed to be sizing him up. It was the sort of thing that would have made him uncomfortable at the beginning of the summer. Now he was confident enough to return the gaze.

Stan nodded his head. “I like you, kid. You’ve got gumption. I’ll help in any way I can. We’ll get him to… believe.” He shrugged. “Hell, my bro’s believed weirder things.” 

Mabel pressed her ear against the door. Her eyes grew dramatically wide and she jerked the door open. The hallway was empty. The front door was wide open.

\-----------------------------------   
-| S | T | A | N |-   
\-----------------------------------

The twins both bolted into the hall before doubling back and grabbing their respective backpacks. They then booked it back out of the room. Stan rushed after them because: a) there wasn’t anything else going on, b) that was where Ford had gone, and c) he wasn’t going to let the two gremlins tackle this alone. He was still not entirely sure what was going on but everyone in the house was freaked out. He knew Ford was freaked out because of him but he was pretty sure this Bill guy was why the others were freaking.

He didn’t have time to pay attention to much as he barreled after the kids. They were quick as they dashed through the house and into the cold. Ford hadn’t offered to take their coats so at least they wouldn’t freeze to death. 

Both teenagers had stopped on the bottom step and were frantically looking around. The Stanley mobile was still parked, so at least Ford hadn’t left in it. 

“Where did he take him?” Mabel asked. “Did he Nerd-nap McGucket?”

“I don’t know!” DIpper shouted with a cracking voice. Stan could see the crack annoyed him to no end. Ordinarily he’d probably tease him about that but they didn’t have any time. 

“Footprints.” He indicated the snow at their feet and motioned for them to look down. There were two sets of prints. One pair were wide the other short and almost a solid line. Someone had been dragged unless he was mistaken. 

What had his brother done?

There wasn’t time to face that. He had to focus on the-

Neither of the kids hesitated before they were dashing towards the woods where the footprints led. Stan swore and followed after them. 

“McGucket!” Dipper’s voice screeched through the air to no answer. Stan let himself get lost in the familiar ache of pounding feet and the burn of frigid air in his lungs. The kids came to a sudden stop with a scream of shock. Mabel collided in to Dipper and the both stumbled to the ground.

They’d reached a clearing of some sort. Ford was standing with his arm around McGucket’s Throat and his other hand pressed against the scientist’s head. There was some object in it that Stan didn’t recognize.

“Well look at that, Shooting Star and Pine Tree caught on early. And they brought back up!”

It wasn’t  _ Ford’s _ voice. Sure, Stan had only heard his brother say a few words in the last 12 years but that was not Ford’s voice. There was something unnatural in it. Even the way Ford was standing didn’t strike Stan right.

“Give him back, Bill!” Dipper growled as he tried to get Mabel off his back. 

“Ooh!” Ford crowed in a voice that was too high and blood curdling. He was smiling in a way that made Stan’s jaw hurt. “This is brilliant, Pine Tree!” Dipper shoved himself up right and tried to block Mabel. She shuffled around him and got on her knees. Ford kept on talking in his new, weird, way. “You’ve brought more people he loves here! Wanna call ma up and make it the full set?”

The light hit his brother’s glasses and for a moment he thought his eyes were yellow. 

McGucket was swaying and looked like he was having trouble breathing.

Stan needed control of this situation before one of the kids got hurt.

“Who’m I talking to?” He asked as he took a tentative step closer. Ford straightened and turned a little towards him. His eyes were wide and not quite right. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with them but they weren’t right. He might not even have noticed it if he hadn’t already been looking. It hadn’t been the light on the glasses either. He was pretty damn certain those eyes were yellow.

Everything about his twin had alarms blaring in Stan’s head. It felt like he was dealing with someone high on an LSD. Or someone needing another fix of something. Either one didn’t bode well for anyone in the area. He’d been attacked by a few too many people like that during his time on the streets.

He kept careful watch of where the children were as he maneuvered himself between them and his not-brother. He really didn’t like that he was unarmed and Ford wasn’t. He also needed to get Ford away from Fiddleford. He’d known the guy for approximately five minutes and already knew he was going to really need that nerd.

“That’s right, we haven’t met yet.” Ford stuck out his six fingered hand. Whatever had been on it was still stuck to Fiddleford’s head. “Hiya, Stanley Pines.”

“Don’t shake his hand!” Dipper chirped the word as he slung his backpack off his shoulder and started to unzip it. Stanley caught a glimpse of books and weird looking objects. At least it wasn’t craft supplies. He needed to get these kids some bats or something. What had he used at their age?

“I wouldn’t do that Pine Tree.” Ford sang in his weird voice. His smile spread and it was too large. He turned his body towards Dipper and dragged Fiddleford along. The inventor gagged and started to lose color. Ford shook him and then tossed him to the ground. He pulled something out of his pocket.

Stan had been skeptical about Mabel saying his brother was possessed but there really wasn’t any denying it now. Bill had control of his brother’s body. The demon made Ford stand straighter and he brought the weapon he was holding – which Stan could now see was a knife – to his own throat. The twins both stilled. “Not if you don’t want your Great Uncle hurt.”

He needed to get control and focus back.

“Woah, woah,” He raised his hands and took another side step forward. It put him a little more in Bill’s line of vision and the twins a little less in the… thing’s line of vision. “Let’s just take a quick breather. You’re Bill, right?”

Ford’s eyes turned on him. He took a giant step away from Fiddleford and towards Stan. The air was positively crackling with something and it just got thicker as Ford came closer. There was a heaviness that made it hard to focus. It was malice like he’d never felt. He’d lived too long in rough situations to not know that people were capable of putting out an aura of anger. You could  _ feel _ when someone with bad intentions was near you. Bill was that dialed up to eleven. It made his already clammy skin crawl.

This thing wanted him dead. THere wasn’t an ounce of doubt about it in his entire body. Whatever thing was wearing his brother’s face wanted to kill him and that was horrifying. 

“That I am, Stanny Boy. Wow. Your brother was right. You are pathetic.” He turned his yellow gaze on Dipper. “You really thought  _ he _ would help?”

Mabel opened her mouth to say something before all her color drained.

“GREMOBLIN!” She shrieked quite suddenly. Stan had no idea what she was talking about. Ford threw his head back and laughed. FIddleford pushed himself up right and looked to the right as the ground began to rumble. 

Stan let his peripherals take in whatever was coming. A big, dark, furry shape burst out of the trees and snarled. 

A bear?

Nope. He took his eyes off Bill and blinked at whatever the thing was.

A bear was probably the closest thing he could come to. He’d seen a bear before and that wasn’t one. It was a monster with red glowing eyes.

McGucket screamed and scrambled backwards right into Ford. 

“What’s wrong, Spectacles? You  _ remembering  _ something?” Bill cackled loudly.

Stan tried to turn his eyes to look at Bill but he couldn't look away from the red. Glowing. Eyes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter title was Spaceman by The Killers


	7. Can you hear me? (I'm screaming)

\-----------------------------------   
-| M | A | B | E | L |-   
\-----------------------------------

Everything had gone from not great to just shy of Weirdmeggedon. Bill had Great Uncle Ford, Fiddleford was suffering some sort of a panic attack, and now the Gremoblin was here.

She didn’t  _ hate  _ the monster. She only hated a few things. She didn’t like it. She could still feel it’s hands gripping her on bad nights and those eyes…

She’d never told anyone that she’d… that those eyes… well. When she lost control of Mabel Land it hadn’t lost its  _ her-ness. _ That pile of horribleness was tailor made for her. It was rooted in what she could remember from staring into the Gremoblin’s glowing eyes.

And now Grunkle Stan was looking at them. Dipper was attempting to stand in front of her –probably because he felt guilty about the last time they saw the Gremoblin – but she could still see Stan. He’d been slowly trying to put himself between them and the various threats. While it was sweet, it was a bad idea. He didn’t know about Bill. They did.

Something needed to be done.

She caught her twin’s eyes and frowned. He held her gaze for a minute and sighed. Whatever he was thinking she wasn’t going to like.

“I’ll take Bill. Get Grunkle Stan.”

They should totally switch those roles. She’d be less freaked by Bill than he would but it would be a waste of time to argue. He’d do it no matter what she said. So… No wasting time on that. She turned her attention to her Grunkle and felt her stomach drop. His brown eyes (the one was still a little black and it  _ hurt _ every time she looked at it) were locked on the Gremoblin’s. She purposefully kept her gaze away from him and pushed out all thoughts of monsters and wriggling things taking over her family.

“Stan!” She called out in as loud and authoritative a tone as she could manage. He continued to stand with his hands limp at his sides and his eyes on the Gremoblin.

Her Grunkle already had too much nightmare fuel. This was  _ not _ happening.

She squared her shoulders and planted her feet. Her hands formed into fists at her side and she sucked in a deep breath. Dipper was moving closer to Bill but she couldn’t focus on them. She had one idea and it was wonderfully crazy.

“I’m a singin’ salmon, spending all day jammin’!” She belted the obnoxiously familiar tune at the top of her lungs. She could actually see Dipper jump and that would have made her pump the air in victory at a different time. She might celebrate it later. The Gremoblin blinked and Stan shuddered. She repeated the tune loudly and only paused for a quick breath. On her fifth iteration the Gremoblin blinked and turned his head to look at her. She immediately snapped her eyes up to the tree over the creature’s head and kept right on singing the tune. Stan swayed near her and groaned. It made her fist tighten. She wanted to hit something. She really wanted to hit Bill but that would just injure Ford.

“Don’t look in its eyes.” She sang in tune to the salmon jingle. She put a little bit of a dance into her next loop of the song. She could hear her Grunkle moving and that was all that really mattered.

“Dipper!” She sang out. He didn’t respond so she sang another loop before continuing. “Do we need a puppet?”

“I don't know if it's like it was with me!" Dipper parroted back to her. "I was just floating there the whole time! I think Ford's suppressed but still in the body!"

"So what do we do?" Mabel sang back. A hand landed on her arm and she grinned at the warm, callousedness of it. She motioned towards her backpack. “Front pocket in the green bag.” She let him know before making another loop of the stupid tune. Stan shuffled to grab what she was pointing at. She heard the sound of a zipper and then Bill’s cackling voice.

“Come on, Pine Tree! I’d love to see you try!”

She needed  _ so _ badly to look and see what was going on but she had to distract this thing.

“The orange ball?” Stan asked. She nodded her head and kept singing. His arm shot up and for a brief moment it was in her line of vision before he was chucking it at the monster.

“GLITTER BOMB!” She shrieked between song loops. The Gremoblin growled in shock and took a step back. The monster grumbled in fright as the glitter coated his fur and eyes. He bellowed and turned away. Mabel dropped her gaze to watch him run away. Stan was already stumbling towards Ford.

Fiddleford was a few feet away with his head buried in his knees and his arms wrapped around himself. He was rocking and moaning. Dipper was in front of Ford/Bill who had a knife to his throat and a demonic grin.

“What do we do, Dipper?” She grabbed her Grunkle’s hand and jogged towards her twin.

“Uh-uh! No closer, Shooting Star!” He pressed the knife closer and she saw a thin bead of red appear. Her breath caught in her throat. Bill had just  _ cut _ Ford. On his throat!

Stan’s hand tightened painfully around her own hand.

“Asshole!” He hollered in a too loud and gruff voice. “Wanna try that shit on me?”

She blinked up at him and felt a little worried that the Gremoblin might have messed him up more than she thought. He never cussed in front of her. His filter was top notch.

Bill’s gaze turned towards them and he smiled wider. Dipper (he was  _ so _ close! What was he doing?) raised his arms shockingly fast and a beam of light shot towards Ford. It hit the knife which shrank until Mabel could no longer see it. Stan growled low in his throat and released his hold on Mabel. He charged forward and tackled Ford.

\----------------------------------   
-| S | T | A | N |-   
\----------------------------------

His brother had never known how to block a tackle. He wrapped his arms around his twin and let his forward momentum knock them both to the ground. Ford cackled for a brief moment and then there was a dull thud as his head hit the dirt. He could hear one of the kids running towards him while the other twin dashed towards Fiddleford.

He was so severely out of his element. He understood  _ nothing _ about what was going on. His heart was racing still from those glowing eyes and he was positive he was about to throw up. His side was on fire and he was dizzy. He couldn’t fight for long. He just had to give it long enough for the twins to get to safety. This demon thing was probably calling a bluff anyway. He needed Ford by the sound of it.

“Stanley?”

His head shot up to look at Ford who was blinking blearily. His eyes focused and a look of utter terror gripped his twin’s face. 

Stan swallowed and used Ford or Bill or who the hell ever’s distraction to his advantage. He flipped his brother over and got his hands secured in such a way that he’d dislocate his arm if he tried to free himself. He knew from experience that it was an effective hold.

“What are you- Stanley!” Ford gasped his name and Stan could hear the panic in his voice. It brought him back to moments of their childhood when there had been too many bullies as he tried to protect his brother.

Dipper slid next to him and grabbed Ford’s head. He pulled his glasses up and peered down intently at his face.

“Oh man, it’s him!” He gasped. His brown eyes looked up at Stan with a childish desperation. “It’s Gr- Ford. Bill’s lost control.”

“I’ve got McGucket.” Mabel called towards them. “I think he needs some Mabel juice. Or Emergency Chocolate. Do you have any, Dipper?”

“No,” Dipper’s voice cracked and Stan could see his frustration at that. “Why would I?”

“What are you doing?!” Ford’s voice was close to breaking. He was losing any control he had. He struggled against Stan’s hold and hissed with pain. He swayed a little and blinked hard. There were so many stars in his vision. When had they appeared? 

“Stanford Filbrick Pines!” Fiddleford’s voice called above everyone else with shocking authority. “Settle down and listen! We are getting you back to the house and you are going to sit down and not say anything until we’ve said our piece.” To his shock, Ford stopped fighting.

Stan turned his head to see Mabel helping the inventor walk towards them. He looked unsteady and like Mabel was the main reason he was even vertical. She was smiling like everything was normal. 

“We still have that hot chocolate.” She said cheerfully. She eyed him and for a moment the smile dropped. It was back before he could even be certain it had disappeared. He pushed himself upright on nearly numb legs and hauled Ford up with him. Moses. Everything hurt. He was going to need some meds. Dipper’s hand landed on his elbow and those big brown eyes blinked up at him. 

“Your hurt.” He whispered. Ford sounded like he might start hyperventilating. Stan couldn’t quite manage to let go of him. He kept seeing those yellow eyes and evil grin. 

“I’m fine, Kid.”

Dipper shook his head. “Liar.”

Stan shot him a warning look. Dipper raised an unamused eyebrow and, yeah. Stan couldn’t exactly be intimidating after a demon, could he? Dipper would probably be hard to scare by something as normal as Stan. 

The kid caught his hand and pried it off of Ford. His brother sucked in a ragged breath and swayed. To Stan’s utter shock, Dipper immediately socked Ford in the arm. His twin yelped in shock and pain and rounded on the teenager.

“Stay awake.” Despite the crack in his words Dipper actually managed to sound intimidating. “I swear we’ll explain but not here. There are too many things that can get us out here.”

Fiddleford reached them and put a hand on Ford’s arm. His twin looked over at him with with had to be crazy eyes. The inventor was really pale. 

“I don’t-what happened?” 

“Walk now.” Fiddleford ordered in what could only be described as a dad voice. 

The group started towards the shack. Dipper took Stan’s elbow and helped support him without being obvious about it. 

“You know you’re bleeding, right?” He whispered as they crunched back through the snow. Stan shrugged. He wasn’t surprised. 

“Was it Ford?” Dipper asked. Stan shook his head. His side was throbbing and he was worried he might have ripped one of those stitches. He’d have to get some of the medical supplies off of Mabel.

“I’m sorry.” Dipper sighed and slumped. He looked weirdly defeated. “We wanted this to go better but…”

“Hey,” Stan elbowed him, “don’t blame yourself.” He had no idea what they’d intended to do. They were kids. From the future. This whole thing was so impossibly unreal.

They made it back to the shack. The hot chocolate was cold now so Mabel poured it all in to a pot and put it on the stove to reheat. They set Ford down in the kitchen at Dipper’s insistence. The thirteen year old boy examined the room for a moment before grabbing a napkin and throwing it over a tiny yellow pyramid that was set up in the window. Fiddleford’s eyes widened at the action. Stan sighed and sank into his chair. The room was swaying a little. He was pretty sure his body wanted to pass out. That was not happening. His body was just going to have to suck it up. He’d been through worse.

“Alright, Dipper, take point.” Fiddleford set two trembling hands on the table and motioned for Dipper to sit. The teenager did awkwardly. He risked a glance at Ford and swallowed heavily.

“Bill’s a liar.” He blurted out suddenly. “He’s trying to use the portal to enter our dimension and destroy it.” His eyes widened dramatically and his mouth fell open as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just said.

“What?” Ford asked in a cracked voice.

“What do you remember?” Dipper asked instead of answering the question.

It was obvious by his body language that Ford didn’t really trust any of them any longer. It had been twelve long years but man, that still hurt.

“Fiddleford pulled me into the living room and then Stan was shoving me into the snow.”

“Have you found yourself losing time?” Fiddleford inquired after a long, awkward moment. Ford eyed him warily. Stan could spot the exact moment his brother shut down his emotions. Cold logic reflected in the no longer familiar brown eyes.

“Pull out that future stuff.” Stan said. There was no point in trying to converse now. Irrefutable facts were their only hope. Even that probably wouldn’t be enough. He’d never met someone as stubborn as his brother. For all he claimed to love logic and reasoning he wouldn’t change his mind when he didn’t want to be wrong.

“Future?” Ford inquired coolly. Dipper sprang to his feet and picked his backpack up. He unzipped it and pulled out three books. He eyed Ford before putting two back. He placed one on the table and pulled a small metal object as well.

“Okay. I lied about being part of the carnival.” Dipper confessed as he took his seat back. Ford raised an incredulous eyebrow that made it clear he found that obvious. Stan almost snorted himself. How had Ford not seen through that? Running off to join the circus was like, runaway plan number 1 for kids. They’d even tried it.

Dipper continued unfazed. Mabel grabbed the mugs back up and started to ladle the now warm chocolate into them.

“I’m actually from the year 2012 and Mabel is my twin sister. We came back in time to stop the dream demon Bill.”

Ford’s eyes narrowed. It was obvious even to Stan that he didn’t buy what the kid was saying. Stan hadn’t seen Ford in over a decade and the room was swaying but it was still obvious. Dipper seemed to see it as well. He shoved the book towards Ford.

“This,” he said with a thick swallow, “is your Third Journal. It… it has your notes on Bill’s betrayal.”

Ford grabbed the book with mild disinterest and opened it part way through. He dropped his eyes onto it lazily before blinking. He sat straighter and peered down in obvious confusion. Stan couldn’t really see what it was he was looking at but it was apparently weird.

“Where did you get this?”

Mabel put the hot chocolate down by his side and stuck her now free hand out. “That’s right!” She squealed happily. “I never introduced myself! I’m Mabel Pines. I’m your Grand Niece from the future and Dip-dop is your Grand Nephew.”

Ford’s eyes shot to him suspiciously. Stan sighed. He was so. Damn. Tired.

“Shermie’s grandkids, you nerd.”

Mabel waited a second before deciding he wasn’t taking her hand. She didn’t seem bothered and just went about passing out the rest of the chocolate. She brought his last and pushed a packet of medicine in his hand discreetly. She then plopped into the seat next to him and grinned at everyone. Stan popped the pills free while Ford flipped through a few more pages.

_ “Think you can protect them? You make me sick you fucking reject. You couldn’t even get the kid out of a warehouse. She had to save you. No way you can save them now.” Damian Monroe stepped back with a wicked grin. Mabel’s scream pierced the air. Stan screamed against the gag but it didn’t matter. He couldn’t move. He could barely see Mabel’s struggling form in the corner by Rico. Dipper was passed out beside her. He was bleeding heavily and Stan couldn’t tell if he was breathing. _

_ Ford was a few feet from him. His glasses were cracked and – _

Stan blinked hard and shoved the nightmare right back down. He would not think about that. He would not think about betraying everyone he loved because of a stupid mistake and losing this all again. He didn’t know what that stupid monster thing had done to him but he would not think about that nightmare.

He was great at ignoring things he didn’t want to think about.

He forced the medicine down and took a sip of hot chocolate. For some stupid reason it made tears spring to his eyes. He knew why but he couldn’t believe he was weak enough to let it happen. So what if this tasted just like his ma used to make it?

“Where did you get this?” Ford asked quietly. He was looking at a page halfway through the journal and Stan was pretty sure he wasn’t imagining the tremor in his twin’s hand.

“From my Great Uncle Ford. Sort of. A thing happened and everyone thought they were destroyed but they weren’t.”

\----------------------------------   
-| F | O | R | D |-   
\----------------------------------

It was all so… impossible. These children were making ridiculous claims, his brother was insisting he hadn’t just attacked him, and they were all trying to convince him his muse had betrayed him. It was insanity.

And yet there was no denying that  _ he _ had written this notebook. It was a perfect copy of his actual journal. Even the codes were correct. Furthermore, there were additional notes written later on in the same code. Fiddleford had never mastered his code and had frequently expressed annoyance at his continued use of cypers. Stan had been able to understand the Ceasar and Atbash cipher when they were kids, but he had never gotten to the intellectual level of understanding the Vigenère cipher.

The other damning piece of evidence was the time lapse. He had ended up in the snow somehow. Fiddleford was bleeding, and his brother was clearly roughed up. The children looked like the only ones who weren’t hurt. At least they weren’t injured more than they had already been.

He simply couldn’t believe what they were telling him.

The girl (Mabel?), grabbed his brother’s arm and tugged him out of his seat. He followed her with a weary sigh. Whatever was about to happen it was something Stan didn’t particularly want to deal with. She took him towards the bathroom with a grocery bag which Ford knew he hadn’t shown them the location of. Dipper watched them go with a pronounced frown. He was fiddling with his watch in a nervous manner that reminded Ford of his twin. Stan would fiddle with his hands the same way when he was nervous.

Fiddleford, for his part, was holding a clean cloth up to his neck in a mildly dazed way.

Supposedly  _ he _ had done that to his research partner. He had held a knife to McGucket’s throat and basically threatened to kill him.

It was simply impossible. Bill was… Bill was his muse and friend. Bill was brilliant and clever and teaching him the secrets of the universe. They were going to change the world together. Bill had given him an opportunity to shape the future.

“You read an incantation on a cave wall.” Dipper said slowly. Ford turned his head to look at the boy only to find him looking at the table. “You were frustrated that you couldn’t find the answer to your theory of weirdness. Nothing happened until you went to sleep.” Dipper paused and ran his finger along the wood grain mindlessly. His voice was cracking and it was obvious he was thinking hard about each word. Ford’s stomach was turning uncomfortably. “Then  _ he _ showed up.” Dipper sighed noisily and got up from the table. He began to pace around.

Ford hadn’t told anyone about any of that. There was no reason for this boy to know about the cave or the dream or even the theory..

Mabel reappeared at that point with a cheery smile. It faltered momentarily when she saw Dipper pacing around. She put it back on even wider and flounced over to the window. She sat against it and smiled at everyone. It reminded him of Shermie. It was the same smile his brother would plaster on when they were very little and their parents were fighting. A smile that said they knew there was a lot of tension but didn’t want to let others know they knew or something.

“Are we all friends now? ‘Cause I want to get some pics of the original Mystery Trio.” She beamed at them all.

“He doesn’t believe us.” Dipper stopped and gripped his hair like it would help him think. It made his birthmark more obvious. Such a unique anomaly…

“Did you show him the stuff?”

Dipper began to nod but paused mid-motion and step. His eyes widened and he looked at Mabel like she had just said the smartest thing on the planet. She smiled and waited for him to get out what he was thinking. He responded by rounding on Ford and jerking the journal out of his hold. He flipped through the pages until he got to whatever he was looking for he then thrust it under Ford’s nose and pointed eagerly at the paper.

It was the spell for following someone into their dream.

“We used this in the future to go inside g-” he cut himself off and spluttered. “Someone’s mind. We were able to view his memories. We could do the same to me! That way you could see what happened.” He looked at Ford as though his acceptance and approval was the single most important thing to him in that moment. “Would that convince you? A memory of Bill’s real nature?”

\-----------

They tied him to a chair before they began the spell. It took Dipper a half hour to fall asleep. They decided that Mabel, Stan, and Ford would go into Dipper’s mind. Fiddleford would stay awake in case something went wrong. He’d be able to wake them up and ‘stop Bill’ if it came to that.

Mabel led the incantation because apparently she’d been part of the group that did it before. They all placed their hands on Dipper as she recited the incantation. Everything grew cold and the room seemed to glow with blue light. There was a spark of electricity and then everything went too bright to see anything.

Ford blinked to clear his vision and found himself standing in front of a staircase that he recognized from his house.

“This way!” Mabel called cheerfully. She snagged his hand and it was at that point that he realized Stan was on her other side. She had her hand wrapped around him as well.

The spirited young girl bounded up the stairs towards the attic room. She pushed it open with her foot and dragged them into the room.

It was a lot bigger than the real attic. The right side of the room was lined with built in bookshelves. They were filled with what looked like scrapbooks, as well as a few bins of craft supplies and random knick knacks. There were a pair of beds against the far wall with a single end table between the two. The left wall was covered in the most expansive conspiracy board he’d ever seen.

“This is Dip-Dop’s mind thingey.” Mabel said cheerfully. She released their hands and spun on her heel while she raised her hands up in celebration. “All of his memories and things are here.” She beamed and let her eyes dance around the room. Her smile seemed particularly fond as she looked at the scrapbook lined shelves.

“Huh.” Stan huffed. He took a step towards the shelf with the craft supplies. “He’s got a space for you up here.”

Mabel shrugged. “My space probably has some Dipper stuff too.”

Stan pulled a book off the shelf and flipped it open. Mabel skipped towards him and peered in as well.

“First grade? Hmm. We’ll need to go a lot later than that.” She slipped past him and went to the shelf. She went to the furthest spot and took two steps back towards them. She reached up to the top shelf and pulled of a yellow book. Her nose wrinkled at the site of it. Stan went to her side without hesitation.

Ford exhaled and went towards her. He… he didn’t like this. It was invasive for one thing and unnerving. He didn’t know what he’d see but he knew he’d hate it. Everything was going to change. Everything was going to fall apart. Whatever he saw was going to-

The pictures in the scrapbook sprang to life the moment he looked at it. It was a scene of Mabel, Dipper, and Stan running across the snow covered ground. 

The scene from this afternoon played out in front of his eyes. He watched in confusion that slowly melted into horror as they reached him. He was holding a blade to Fiddleford’s throat. He threatened them all.

The Gremoblin came and his brother was stuck staring at it’s eyes. Mabel started to sing a nonsensical tune to distract it while Dipper went for him. Neither twin hesitated in their task.

_ Bill’s _ voice came out of his throat. Bill moved his body and caused him to harm Fiddleford.

Dipper shot some sort of beam at him and the blade shrunk. His brother tackled him to the ground and he could see the moment he regained his body.

A mistake… It had to be some kind of a mistake. It couldn’t be real. He couldn’t-

The scene changed to a different memory. The sky was splitting open and dazzling colors were pouring out of it. Bill charged upwards into their world and took on a horrifying shape as he cackled at the sky. Monstrosities poured out of the crack in between worlds and flooded the sky. Bill sent balls of complete madness skittering about and he destroyed everything in his path.

Bile rose up in Ford’s throat. He took a horrified step back at the vision he was seeing as the acidic bile burned his throat. Was this his legacy? Was this what he had accomplished?

He’d been betrayed again! There was no denying this evidence. He knew enough to know that this was Dipper’s actual memory. This had happened. He’d tried to take Fiddleford and hurt him. Oh God, what else might he have tried? Had he actually attacked them in the night?

“Grunkle Ford.” Mabel’s hand grasped his arm and gave him a shake. She’d closed the scrapbook when he wasn’t paying attention. The room was darker than it had been. The air was heavy. He felt like there was something under his skin trying to claw its way out. A panic that made his throat tight and his body shake.

A hand settled on his arm and he nearly screamed. Something heavy was thrown over his shoulders and the reassuring weight helped to ground him. He grabbed a hold of the coats edges and pulled them tight around his chest. He wheezed but couldn’t seem to get any air.

It had all been a lie. Everything in his life. There was no one he could trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter title was Into the wild by Connell Cruise


	8. Can you help me unravel my latest mistake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stan gets a little irritated at the end of this chapter and uses some adult language.

\-------------------------------------   
-| D | I | P | P | E | R |-   
\-------------------------------------

Dipper woke up to someone tugging on his left earlobe. He knew it was Mabel before he was even fully conscious. His hand came up to bat at her defensively while he tried to remember what was going on. There was a low grade of panic bubbling under his skin. Usually that meant there was a test coming up or some super important social thing he was stressing out about.

“Dipping Sauce,” Mabel whined next to the ear she was tugging on, “Now is  _ not _ the time to be in dreamland.” There was a harder tug. “I need you up and at it right now.”

He forced his eyes open and as the fading sunlight hit him the memories of what had happened over the last few days surfaced. He frowned as his sister’s face came into focus. She straightened up and he realized she was sitting on the kitchen table. He was still in the chair he’d fallen asleep on. 

There was a strange high pitch noise coming from the left. He blinked twice to clear his sleep-blurry vision. Ford was slumped over in the chair he’d been tied to with Fiddleford standing a few awkward feet away. Stan was at the kitchen sink. It looked like he was washing his face or something.

The sound - which Dipper now realized was the wheeze of someone not able to breathe and panicking - was coming from Ford. Oops. Maybe they went a little too intense on the memories. Which ones had Mabel shown him?

“Ford?” Dipper asked cautiously. Ford made no indication of recognition. 

“Get him his coat.” Stan coughed from the sink. He bent over again and made a gagging sound. Mabel was watching him with wary eyes. She was chewing on her bottom lip which was her biggest ‘I’m worried’ flag. He needed to get her by herself and figure out what had happened to her over the last day and a half since they’d arrived. Something was going on that she hadn’t told him about yet.

Fiddleford dropped Ford’s coat over his shoulders. His Great Uncle buried his head in his free arm and his breath hitched loudly. 

His Great Uncle was having a panic attack. He’d barely ever even seen Ford stressed. His Great Uncle was brilliant at hiding his worry.

Stan straightened up over the sink and rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth. Had he just vomited? Stan caught his eye for a second and frowned self consciously. He looked to Ford instead. Dipper felt weird.

Had they gone too far? Had they just messed things up even worse?

“Hey,” Stan said thickly, “give him some space. He doesn’t like to be crowded when he’s goin’ through an attack.”

Fiddleford instantly shuffled backwards and shoved his hands in his pockets awkwardly. Mabel slipped off the table and tugged on Dipper’s arm to pull him up out of the chair. She dragged him towards Stanley who was still using the sink to support himself. 

“Grunkle Stan, do you need more-”

Stan shot her a hard look that made her click her mouth shut. 

“I’m fine, kido.” He grumbled. 

Mabel gave her head a disbelieving shake. “Fine. Can you watch Grunkle Ford for a moment? I need to chat with Dipper.”

Stan shrugged so Mabel drug him out of the room. She went to the bathroom and locked the door behind them. He didn’t have time to even exhale before she was grabbing him in a tight hug.

“I was  _ so worried. _ ” 

“I’m sorry,” He hugged her back and tried not to shudder. “I didn’t know what to do when I woke up yesterday and you weren’t there.”

Mabel stiffened dramatically and released him. “Yesterday?” She asked incredulously. He nodded. It had been a really intense day and a half. “Dipper, I’ve been here for four days!”

His mouth fell open.

“What?!” He had  _ no _ control over his volume. 

“Don’t ask me! You’re the nerdy one!” She huffed out an irritated breath that blew his bangs. She smelled like hot chocolate. “Why would we have arrived at different places and times? Was it broken?”

“I mean… probably?” That still didn’t make sense. Everything he understood about time travel (which wasn’t much but was still more than the average person at this point in time) said that they still would have arrived at the same time and together. “Oh man.” He sat down on the toilet heavily. “We are  _ so _ out of our element here.” 

“I’ll admit that nothing seems to be going to plan.” Mabel leaned against the sink and tapped her chin. “However everyone now knows and believes us so-” she pumped her fist in the air victoriously. “win!” She grinned wider, seeming like she didn’t think everything was terrible. “We also already have mercury. I can get the unicorn hair- I can take Grunkle Stan with me because I know he likes to hit things - and I bet Great Uncle Ford will know where to get moonstone.” She shrugged. “I mean, he did last time.”

It utterly baffled him sometimes how his sister could be so upbeat. They were in the middle of a terrible situation with no real plan and she was just swinging her feet like they were trying to pick out a paint color instead of preventing (another) weirdmeggedon. 

“Where did you end up?” He finally asked. 

“In New Mexico. I popped up in a warehouse thing. Grunkle Stan was tied to a chair and bleeding. I’m pretty sure they stole his kidney or something.” She shuddered a little. She jumped down from her perch on teh sink and wrapped her arms around her chest in a self hug. “Some men came in after I untied him and threatened us. We escaped with glitter bombs and took one of their cars.” She turned towards him with a sunny smile that he could tell was a fake. “We found the Stan mobile and started heading here.”

“I arrived yesterday. I was pretty much instantly found by Great Uncle Ford and McGucket.”

“Okay… Well…” Mabel leaned against the wall beside him. “What do we do next?”

What did they do next? It was evening time now. The sun was already set. He didn’t like how short the days were right now. He’d just come out of summer when it was pretty much daylight 24/7. It wasn’t a great idea to go out during the day but going out at night was terrible.

As if it sensed his dilemma, his stomach suddenly gave a violently loud growl. Mabel snorted and pushed off from the wall.

“Right. Dinner! That’s what we’ll start with.” She grabbed Dipper’s hand and tugged him towards the kitchen. “Come on.”

Outside the bathroom Stan was filling the pot with water. Fiddleford was browning a small package of meat. It occurred to Dipper that they’d only really bought enough food for three people. They’d sent the postcard while they were in town. They hadn’t actually expected Stan to show up for a week. 

Stan side eyed them and tried to look like he wasn’t. Dipper was accustomed to that same move from future Grunkle Stan. Any time they came back a little too banged up from an adventure he’d look at them like that.

For some reason he hated looking like he cared. It had been well into July before he’d started to openly ask if they were okay.

Fiddleford, however, had no such qualms. He eyed them both as they walked into the room and frowned.

“You two alright?”

“Yep!” Mabel replied cheerfully. She bounced her way to Grunkle Stan and peered into the pot. “Did you salt the water?”

Stan nodded his head. “Of course.”

Dipper gave the room a cursory glance and realize that Ford was no longer tied up in the chair. In fact, he wasn’t even in the room.

“Uh,” he stuttered, “where’s Great Uncle Ford?”

Stan shot him a quick look. Dipper couldn’t read it. Mabel seemed to understand it and frowned a little.

“He’s in his room. He wanted a shower.” Stan poured the pasta in the pot without seeming to care that the water wasn’t boiling yet.

Fiddleford nodded and added a seasoning pack. “Yep. He wanted a moment to gather himself after his, er… breakdown?” He turned his gaze on Stan who shrugged uncomfortably. He was trying to ignore Mabel’s persistent gaze. Fiddleford continued on. “It’s a lot to take in. We probably shoulda been more gentle but… Time wasn’t exactly on our side.” He sighed heavily and shook his head. His glasses slipped down his nose a little. “It ain’t like I got experience fighting a demon. Not that I had experience building an interdimensional portal either.”

“It’s okay to leave him alone?” Stan interjected. He was still ignoring Mabel’s eyes. She was starting to look put out. It almost made Dipper grin. No one got away with ignoring Mabel for long. She was good at making herself heard and seen.

“Fiddleford,” she said suddenly. The inventor looked her way with an easy smile. “Do you know much medical stuff?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have that kind of doctorate.” He eyed her suspiciously. Dipper saw him take in the week old bruises on her face and the scar by her left eye that she’d gotten during their first adventure in Gravity Falls. They’d spent an hour on their last day in their Gravity Falls comparing scars. He would probably end up with a few more than her simply because he’d been through all of Weirdmeggedon. He hadn’t said that though. He’d blamed it on the spaceship.

“Do you need medical help?” Fiddleford asked after looking her over.

“Kid’s got a welt on the side of her head.” Stan interjected quickly. Mabel’s put out look was now a full on glare. His Grunkle was about to be in trouble. “I patched it up as well as I could.”

Mabel poked Stan in the side and he hissed dramatically. He dropped the pot lid he was holding and it clattered dramatically loudly on the floor.

“You,” she said to Stan with a cheerfulness that made Dipper’s skin crawl, “are lucky we’re in a house that Bill can spy on.” She picked the lid up and passed it back to him. “You’re also lucky I love you and would not deliberately hurt you.” She turned her gaze to Fiddleford and smiled innocently. He looked vaguely confused. “It’s not a bad cut.” She pushed her hair back to reveal a scabbed over slash. It looked like something had knocked her in the head. “I’ve had worse. An apocalypse will do that for you.”

The conversation switched to more mundane subjects while they finished fixing dinner. Stanford came down to eat and was quiet through the majority of the meal.

“I think I should be handcuffed to my bed.” Ford finally said as they finished the beef pasta.

“What?” Stan asked. Mabel kept pushing a glass of water closer to him. He was blatantly ignoring it.

“Tonight. If Bill can take me over when I lose consciousness it only makes sense that I be bound through the night.”

Fiddleford exhaled noisily. “I was worried you’d try and stay awake.” Ford’s posture stiffened uncomfortably and Fiddleford’s gaze hardened. “Ah. That’s your intention, isn’t it? You’re just using the handcuffs as a precaution.”

Ford glared. “It seems like the most prudent course of action.”

“Yes,” Fiddleford snapped, “let’s add sleep deprivation to your list of problems.”

Ford leveled a glare at the inventor. Dipper dropped his eyes to the empty plate in front of him. He was still hungry. He found himself violently wishing that it wasn’t snowing right now. He’d rather be anywhere than here in this awkward, passive-aggressive, conversation.

“What?!” His great uncle finally snapped. “Just spit it out, Stanley. I can hear you thinking over here. Moses! Why even bother trying to hide it? You’ve never been quiet about you opinion before.”

Dipper glanced up to see Stan clenching both fists on top of the table. He was pale and glaring at his twin. Mabel looked uncomfortable and unhappy. She had something in her hand that she’d been trying to pass to him.

“What’s my problem? Jesus, Ford. Even you’re practically shaking. I find out that not only are demons real but, newsflash, my brother is building a portal to a demon’s dimension. The only way to stop it is with a bunch of imaginary ingredients from fantasy creatures.” He winced and stiffened his posture. What was it Mabel had said? He’d been stabbed? Something like that…

He’d been made to look into the Gremoblin’s eyes as well. What had he seen?

“Why are you even here?” Ford muttered.

Stan blinked at his brother in obvious confusion. The expression only lasted for a moment before it was carefully hidden away with disdain. He tapped Mabel on the head.

“This kid needed to find her twin. She’s family. I take care of my family.”

Ford leveled a glared at his twin. Dipper knew whatever he was about to say was terrible and going to make everything worse.

“Do you have any milk?” Mabel interjected. She jumped out of her chair with a big smile.

“Some?” Fiddleford offered. “We mostly use it for tea.”

“Perfect! You have sugar too?” She grabbed Grunkle Stan’s right hand off the table and tugged him up. Fiddleford nodded in answer. “Great. Grunkle Stan and I are going to grab some clean snow. We’ll make snow cream! Perfect for a cold night. Dipper, you and Fiddleford get the Fire nice and warm. Great Uncle Ford, mind clearing the statues out of the living room?” She didn’t wait for an answer before she dragged Stan outside with a large cooking pot to gather snow in.

They set about making the living room comfortable. Dipper helped with the Bill memorabilia which he dumped in the trash bin outside. Ford’s hands were shaking a bit but he managed to steady them by the time the junk was out of the room and Mabel was bringing in mugs full of snow cream. She’d brought a deck of cards as well. They played a few rounds of go fish, black jack, and five card stud. By group consensus they agreed to talk about the ‘Bill Stuff’ in the morning light.

\--------------------------------

-| S | T | A | N |-

\--------------------------------

They put the twins in the attic for the night and Stan was not having a good time. His side was burning and itchy, he hated sleeping in new places, and he missed Mabel’s mumbles. It had only been three days that he’d known her but... Damnit, he’d gone and grown accustomed to her.

He  _ really _ didn’t like letting her out of his sight now that they were in this demon house. He should have believed her a bit more when she told him about that.

Stan rolled over on the couch and tried to ignore the way it irritated his stitches. He forced his eyes close and exhaled noisily.

But not noisily enough to cover the clatter from outside.

His eyes popped open. He held absolutely still and a few seconds later, there was another clatter. He hadn’t imagined it. There was something out there.

He pushed himself up from the couch and strode towards the window. He plastered himself against the wall and pulled the curtain back just enough to peer outside. The harsh white of the snow stood out in the starry night sky. He could see the Stanley Mobile where he’d parked it with Fiddleford’s vehicle next to it.

And in the snow in front of the house was a lot of sticks that had been lined up to spell:

I SEE YOU

He dropped the curtain and sprang back. He rushed to the front door which was locked and spun on his heel. He dashed through the kitchen and collided with Fiddleford.

“What in tarnation?” Fiddleford stumbled back a step and caught Stan’s shoulder. He managed to right himself while Stan bit off a colorful curse. His side exploded with pain as his injury collided with the inventor’s arm.

“Someone left a message in the snow.” Stan grit out as he pushed past him to get to the back door. It was also locked.

“Someone what?” The inventor made his way to the front of the house and peered out a curtain. “Oh god.”

Stan nodded in sympathy. “Both doors are locked. 

“Bill can control the town folk?” Fiddleford spun on his heel and faced Stan with wide eyes. Stan nodded stiffly. Mabel had mentioned that Bill liked to make deals. “Son of a biscuit!”

Without any sort of warning a loud and deranged cackle burst out of Ford’s room. Stan jumped and dug his hands in his jean pockets. His hands brushed against his knuckle dusters. 

“I’m making some tea.” Fiddleford marched past him towards the kitchen like this was all perfectly normal. “Do you want some?”

“No I don’t want tea.” He wanted a whiskey. Or at least a beer. Hell, he’d even take wine at this point.

“Suit yourself.” Fiddleford set to making himself a cup of tea. Stan followed into the room numbly. The cackle sounded again, all the louder. There was a pause and then another. 

“There’s a record player in that cabinet. Mind setting it up? I think we’re going to need something to block that out.” He dropped a sugar cube into his tea cup. “I certainly am.”

Stan got to setting up the record player. It brought back vivid memories of his childhood. They spent many a sunday night listening to music while they ‘studied.’ He pushed the memories down like he always did.

There was another laugh as he set the record to play. Fiddleford was sitting with his cup of tea by the time Stan was done. He sank into the chair across from him and dropped his head on his arms. 

“There isn’t a kid nearby, is there? Those little gremlins didn’t sneak out?” Fiddleford glance around before shaking his head. 

“No.” Fiddleford said after a beat when he realized Stan couldn’t see his head shake.

“Thank God because I need to cuss and drink.”

“Huh?”

Stan huffed into his arm. “We are in a fucking nightmare. We are in the middle of bumfuck nowhere without electricity in a fucking blizzard with a damn dream demon running rampant and controlling my fucking  _ idiot _ of a brother.”

“Essentially?” 

Stan snapped his head up and glared at Fiddleford. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this angry. “And what’s worse? The asshole can control the damn townspeople as well. We are fucking screwed and we’re going to starve because no one bothers to get something as normal as fucking food in this shithole house.”

Seriously, what the hell was wrong with his brother? He was the smartest person Stan had ever met and he was such an idiot. 

Fiddleford swirled his tea around in his cup. “That is… more colorful than I would have put it but essentially it’s correct.”

“And the kids! They willing came back to this shitshow to prevent a fucking  _ worse _ future!” Stan snarled the words in a gruff voice. 

“They knew the danger.” Fiddleford replied evenly. He took a sip of his tea. “Dipper’s had numerous run ins with Bill. I’m fair certain he’s been possessed by that thing as well.”

Stan made an animalistic sound of anger and hurt and banged his fist against the table. “Why is there nothing to eat or drink or hit in this damn house?”

“I offered you some tea.” Fiddleford pointed out cordially. Stan glared. 

“I don’t want some fucking leaf water. I want something hard.” He huffed and sat back in his chair. His posture was tense and stiff and his hands were fisted on the table. Fiddleford was watching him carefully. Stan felt like some sort of pent up animal that wanted to kill his captor. He had no idea what he was doing. He was fighting some creature that couldn’t be seen or touched but could do anything he wanted to them. How did you fight a dream demon?

He slumped in his chair as all the fight left his body. He was so tired.

“I can’t.” He muttered. “Dipper? Possessed?” He couldn’t picture that  _ child _ being possessed. Hearing him scream like Ford. Had his body been banged up as well? Christ! Both kids were littered with scars! Had some of them been Bill’s doing? Oh god! What if- “Did it get Mabel too?”

“No,” Fiddleford said slowly. He set his cup down and crossed his arms over his chest. “Not that I know. He didn’t possess her. He threatened her and locked her up.”

“What do we do?” Stan exhaled shakily and wrapped his own arms around himself. “How do we fix this? They’re looking to us for the answers and I have no idea.”

There was a scream from Ford’s room and both men jumped. Stan’s body was tense again. His hands were gripping the table tightly enough that his knuckles were white.

“We wait.” Fiddleford finally said. “We ride this out until morning. One of us gets groceries in the car while the other one takes Mabel and gets the unicorn hair. The snow will eventually stop and we can be careful in the mean time. Dipper can make sure Ford doesn’t get possessed or loose. He has that flashlight thing. I can make us enhanced radios to communicate with.” He swallowed and tucked his hand around the teacup. His fingers were trembling. “We can find the moonstone. We can do this.”

Stan exhaled noisily and glared at the ceiling when another inhuman scream rang out. Fiddleford reached forward and tapped Dipper’s version of the third journal. Stan hadn’t even noticed it sitting on the table. 

“In the meantime,” the inventor said after a second, “you can do a little studying. I’ve got the Second Journal I’m working through right now. Dipper still has the first. Apparently he spent the least time with that one.”

Stan grabbed the book and flipped it open. He peered down at the pages and frowned.

“I hate my brother’s handwriting. It’s too small and cursive was always a bitch to read.” If that wasn’t bad enough his brother had written in some sort of code. He probably thought it looked cool. The dork.

Fiddleford smiled into his glass. “I happen to know that you did quite good at reading those books.”

Stan eyed him suspiciously. “What do you know, Fidds?”

The smile faded. “Enough to be wary. I will say you became something of an expert on portals.”

“Like you nerds?” He shook his head and turned a page of the journal. “No thank you.” 

He didn’t know what happened in the future - not really - but he knew enough to know he didn’t want it to come to pass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My God, I rewrote this SO MANY times and I still don't like it.
> 
> Last chapter title was Again by Spasensie (the lyrics to FMA: Brotherhood's first song.)


	9. People livin' in competition (All I want is to have my peace of mind)

\-------------------------------

-| S | T | A | N | -

\-------------------------------

“How in the fuck are you so calm?”

Stan didn’t mean to growl the words but he couldn’t help it. They’d been sitting at this table for twenty odd minutes. He’d read a few pages of his brother’s cramped writing and he knew it was going to make his head hurt. Fiddleford had simply been sitting there sipping tea like they weren’t in some nightmare situation.

“Pardon?” The inventor looked up from his journal and adjusted his glasses like they were just reading for fun and not because they’d wound up in this freak show.

“How are you so calm? There is someone outside writing messages with sticks while my possessed brother won’t stop cackling like an idiot.”

Fiddleford regarded him for a long and heavy moment. It occurred to him that he really didn’t have any reason to act chummy with this guy. They didn’t actually know each other. By all reason they shouldn’t really ever have even met. Stan was a conman who lived out of his car. Fiddleford was an inventor who could build a portal to another world. Yet, in less than 24 hours, he’d already saved this dude and felt like he could trust him.

Stan didn’t trust. It didn’t pan out well for him. There was something in the inventor’s gaze though that demanded trust.

“Alright.” Fiddleford said. He leaned forward so his elbows were resting on the table. “I’ll bite. I’m not calm. I don’t reckon I’ve been calm since I set foot in this city.”

“Huh,” he blew a breath out through his mouth. “I thought I was the only one that noticed that. It felt weird, right? Like the air’s charged with static.”

Fiddleford nodded. “I shoulda turned back. Your brother’s a genius but he couldn’t ha’ built that thing without me.” He picked up his mug and inhaled the scent of the tea. “I am simply faking calm. If I allow myself to act worried or scared I’ll run away.” His blue eyes grew distant. “I can’t run.”

“Why the hell not?” Stan couldn’t run. He got why Mabel and Dipper couldn’t run. Fiddleford was the only one who  _ could _ run. He had no family attachments here.

Fiddleford’s eyes locked on him with a startling amount of determination. “Because Dipper knew my son.”

It really shouldn’t have startled him so much to hear that. He was old enough to have a kid. Hell, Mabel could have been his kid. (That was a terrifying thought. He was freaked out enough just trying to keep the kid alive and fed.)

“Son?”

“Tate.” The inventor leaned back in his seat and regarded Stan with a frown. “My little Tater-tot. Something happened after the portal thing. My son ended up out here and I ended up in the dump. I will not let that happen. My son will grow up knowing his father loves him and he will be safe from all of this.”

Well… there wasn’t a lot he could say about that.

“Why are you here?” Fiddleford asked after a moment.

Why was  _ Stan _ here? Because Ford needed him. It was simple. Stan protected his family. If they needed him he came. That was all there was to it. If he’d received the postcard from Ford that he was going to send – would have sent? Wow… time travel was weird… regardless, if he’d received that postcard he’d have come. Mabel showing up in a burst of glitter and laughter had just brought him early.

“Because my family needs me.” He shrugged depreciatingly and turned the page of the journal. He’d skipped further into the book to see if he could find out what was happening when Bill had actually betrayed his brother. He could feel Fiddleford’s eyes on him and it made him really uncomfortable. “I had the kid too. Can’t exactly leave her on the side of the road.”

He’d have driven further for Mabel. He liked the kid-probably full on loved her despite it only being 4? 5? Days since he’d met her. When Stan fell he tended to fall hard and fast. Also, he’d dare anyone to not love Mabel.

But…

Ford. It was always Ford. Stan would do pretty much anything for his twin. He’d been waiting a dozen years to be allowed to see Ford again. A demon – freaky or not- wasn’t going to stop him.

“Oh,” Fiddleford put his hands up like he was irritated. “For the love of-  _ earplugs. _ ”

“Huh?”

“For the demon laughing. We have earplugs. We can block it out. Ford bought some for a siren thing he wanted to study.” He pushed himself up from the chair and went to the cabinet. He pulled a box of what looked like medical supplies and shuffled through it. Stan could only blink at him. It was so obvious now. What was it Fidd had said during dinner? Let’s add sleep deprivation to the list of problems? Damn it! Stan should have caught that. Bill was trying to keep them up. If they were tired they’d make mistakes. They’d be way easier to trick.

The kids were probably both asleep but they wouldn’t be much use against Ford and whatever was outside. Moses, they couldn’t afford to stay up all night.

A package was pressed into his hand. He blinked to find Fiddleford was looking down at him.

“Thanks,” he said a little gruffly. “That bastard probably wants us going crazy and staying up all night.”

“It fits into his theme. He’s a chaotic evil.”

If Stan hadn’t been so tired and stress he probably would have ignored that. “The fuck does that mean?”

“Your filter is quite impressive.” Fiddleford noted as he returned to his seat and opened his own package of ear plugs. “It’s a Dungeons Dungeons and More Dungeons thing. A role playing game. Basically it means you like to create chaos and you’re a fan of evil so you’re hard to predict.”

“Filter?” He broke the package open and pulled the earplugs out.

“Your ability to not curse in front of the twins.”

Stan shrugged. He’d learned that as a kid. You didn’t curse in front of his ma or pa. Either one would back hand you. The main difference was that pa wanted it to  _ hurt. _

“So. We have a game plan, correct?”

He looked up and met Fiddleford’s eyes. He liked him. He had the longest nose Stan had seen but it was a good face. One that was honest and kind. He might not have been any more aware of what he was doing than Ford but he was here and he was willing to help.

“I get unicorn hair with Mabel. You get groceries. We don’t talk to anyone and we’re armed. Dipper keeps Ford under guard and we figure out how to disable that portal.”

Fiddleford nodded and downed what was left of his tea. “Yep. Let’s get some sleep.”

\-----------------------------------   
-| M | A | B | E | L |-   
\-----------------------------------

Mabel woke up with the sunlight and stretched cheerfully. There was a blissful moment of just being warm and comfy before she was aware of everything.

Dipper was lying beside her curled in a ball like he always did. They’d fallen asleep talking. He was even still wearing his hat. They had a lot they needed to do today but she didn’t want to wake him just yet. It didn’t sound like he’d had a lot of sleep before she’d gotten here.

She pressed a kiss to his forehead and slipped away from the attic.

It was quiet downstairs which probably meant the other inhabitants were sleeping or hiding in their rooms. She made sure to be extra quiet on the last few creaky steps and snuck around the corner to peer into the living room. Her heart lodged in her throat when she saw her Grunkle sitting on the couch looking strangely small.

Stanley was sitting near the edge like he was about to stand. His hands were limp at his sides but the rest of his body was tense. The journal was in his lap open. She felt her breath hitch as she realized what was on that page. She’d forgotten about the letter Bill had left for her. Monkey feathers! That was such a big oversight!

“Grunkle Stan?”

His head snapped up and she watched as he realized she knew what he found. She tried a smile but it didn’t feel sincere.

“You found this in the car?” He asked gruffly. He was pulling on his  _ I’m tough and don’t get worried. Worrying is for wimps _ facade.

She didn’t particularly see any reason to lie so she nodded her head.

She exhaled noisily as she answered. “He hid it between the cushions. I thought it was a surprise taco.” She shrugged a shoulder. “I kind of needed it.” His eyes narrowed and hardened. He was about to interrupt so she continued a little faster. “I wasn’t taking  _ this _ ,” She waved her arm through the air to indicate their current situation, “seriously. I wasn’t taking anything but my crushes seriously. Dipper… he’d always seemed untouchable, you know?” She sat down on the coffee table and tried not to make herself small. She kind of wanted to shove the journal off the table. Never let it be said she didn’t have some impulse control.

She swallowed again and continued. “I… I never really thought about  _ losing _ him. Not Dipper.” She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes and, no. Not right now. Grunkle Stan didn’t do well with tears.

Man. She missed Soos and Wendy. Soos would know how to make Grunkle Stan express himself. Wendy would just punch it better. Mabel liked to punch as well, but not as hard. She was more fond of squishing cheeks anyway.

Stan’s expression broke for maybe half of a second. It was long enough for her breath to catch but not long enough for her to have any kind of reaction time. He quickly put on a very neutral look and eyed her sweater and pink skirt. The same skirt she’d been sporting since she’d met him.

“Do you have anything warmer than that? Like pants or something?”

Stupid subject change. Just when they were getting to the serious stuff. Oh well. At least he brought up a good, if annoying, point. The unicorns were not close. There was a long hike through the forest to reach the magical clearing. Not to mention that the snow hadn’t stopped falling until the middle of the night. There was a lot of snow outside. Maybe they could make snowmen after the Bill thing!

“Nope. Maybe I can steal something warmer from Dipper.” Fiddleford had taken him shopping yesterday, right? It was amazing that the inventor had only had her brother for a few hours and managed to do what neither her or Grunkle Stan had been able to do for the entire summer. He’d gone shopping and changed outfits. She’d kind of died a little inside at how lame his outfit was. He never changed clothes. Clothing was meant to express yourself and your mood. Dipper just came off… well, like Dipper.

“What about you?” She asked after a moment of contemplative silence. “Do you have anything other than that jacket?” She leaned forward and poked his knee. His jeans had worn thin there and he needed a patch.

Stan shook his head. “Nah, I’m fine.”

“Wait here!” She sprang up with a cheery smile and deliberately let her hand trail over the journal as she ran by it. The page flipped to one on the Northwest’s. Anything was better than Bill’s threatening, “I’d like to murder your brother and then do the same to you” letter.

She sprang lightly up the steps and back to the familiar and not familiar attic. It was still the same shape and lighting but the room itself wasn’t right. Their stuff was missing and the air was too heavy.

Dipper had stirred awake at some point and was blearily trying to pull on the sweater he’d got yesterday.

“Dip-Dop!” She cheered. She grabbed him in a hug and snorted a laugh when she realized she’d pinned his arms to his sides. He hadn’t managed to get them through the sleeves yet so he was trapped inside the red sweater.

“’Morning, Mabel.” He yawned and struggled half-heartedly to free himself.

“Do you have any extra pants I can use? I want to go Unicorn hunting and Grunkle Stan doesn’t want me going out with just a skirt.”

“Probably?” She released her brother and let him get his hands through his sleeves. He secured her a pair of ugly gray sweatpants. He would pick out something that garish and boring. She’d just have to spruce it up. Maybe she could stitch some hearts and stars in it with extra unicorn hair. No one else would have pants like that!

She gathered her knitting project up along with a pair of scissors and started towards the steps. She stopped long enough to poke her brother’s cheek and boop his nose before going back to the living room. Her Grunkle hadn’t moved an inch.

She sprang on top of the table (she knew it would hold her weight now) and spread her project wide. Stanley gawked at her in shock as he saw the red sweater she had made during their cross country trip. She’d gone ahead and stitched the symbol from his future fez on it. 

“Tada!” she declared and shoved it towards him. “A Mabel original! It’ll keep you warmer than just the jacket.” She jiggled the sleeves when he just continued to stare with his mouth open. “Go on.” She urged. “Try it on.”

Stanley blinked twice and reached forward tentatively. He brushed the chest of the sweater with the tip of his fingers before withdrawing his hand.

“That’s what you were making on the drive?” He asked in a small, confused voice. 

She nodded her head. “Yeppers.” She jumped off the table and squished it on top of his head. He spluttered a bit but his hands went to the sleeves automatically. It was an instinctive reaction that she’d been counting on. 

“VVey?” He mumbled into the yarn as his hands caught the edge of the sweater.

“Huh?”

“Why?” He managed after he got his head free. He pulled it down around his belly and Mabel beamed. She’d thought he would be a little thinner than her future Grunkle so she’d made it a bit smaller in the stomach. It looked like it fit perfectly. Score!

She realized what he’d asked and frowned. “What’dya mean, why? I thought it’d be cold up here and wanted you to have a sweater.”

“But…” He trailed off and seemed to struggle with which words to use. Mabel decided to help him out because, why not?

She poked his stubble covered cheek and smiled. “I love you, silly. I make sweaters for all the people I love.” She had started a new sweater for Dipper (her brother would not continue wearing some store bought sweater) and had plans for one for Fiddleford and Great Uncle Ford.

He blinked his brown eyes up at her before dropping his gaze to stare transfixed at the floor.

“It’s soft.” He muttered. “Thanks.”

That was honestly more than she’d expected to get out of him.

At that point Dipper stumbled down the stairs and into the living room. He was rubbing one of his eyes and trying hard not to look like he was tired.

“Do we have anything for breakfast?” Stan asked the room. Mabel shrugged and Dipper sighed.

“I think there’s some bologna? Maybe enough for sandwiches?” Her twin looked around. “Is anyone else up?”

“Probably. I heard Fidds fiddling around in his room a while ago. Ford asked for a cup of coffee an hour or so ago.” Stan shrugged his left shoulder.

“How’d he look?” Dipper asked immediately. Stan shrugged again.

“Tired.” Was the one word answer. Her Grunkle made a show of gathering up the journal to avoid looking at either of them.

“Dip-Dop, you go wake him up. I’ll get the bologna sandwiches together. We can get our plan for the unicorns together then.” Her twin nodded and went to the back room Great Uncle Ford slept in.

\-------------------------------

-| S | T | A | N | -

\-------------------------------

Stan opened the half used loaf of bread and counted out slices. They needed enough for… five? Yeah. Five people. 

There were six slices. Of course.

He set the extra slice of bread to the side and decided he’d just make six open face sandwiches. He pulled the bologno out, there were seven slices of it, and a pack of cheese which had five slices. The mustard was nearly out of date which surprised him. He hadn’t really thought of mustard as ‘going bad’.

He heard someone shuffle behind him and turned his head enough to see Ford walk in the room. He was rubbing his wrist and looked utterly exhausted. He had a distinctly rumpled look whenever he was tired. Apparently Bill didn’t let him sleep. Great.

The twins weren’t with him. Stan turned his gaze back onto the partially assembled sandwiches. 

“Where the kids? Those gremlins up to something?”

Ford huffed a tired and irritated sounding breath. “They’re retrieving the necessary items for today’s activities.” His twin shuffled further into the room but not far enough to be in Stan’s peripheals. “Is there any coffee made?”

“No.” He spread some mustard on the bread. “Fidd’s set out the supplies for the cup I gave you earlier. I don’t know where any of your shit is.” 

“I take it my research partner has yet to emerge?” 

The tone sounded judgy to Stan and that irked him. Fidd’s had gone to bed after Stan and he’d gone to bed  _ late. _ The inventor could sleep in until noon and Stan wouldn’t judge him for it. He had no reason to be in this mess. He’d come here to innocently help a friend and had ended up in some stupid horror movie. Not even a well written one. This promised to be some kind of slasher film with a ridiculous plot. 

“I heard him moving around but haven’t seen him.” He risked a quick glance at his brother under the guise of picking up the bologna. His twin was still rubbing his wrist. Uh oh. 

He straightened up. “Did you have your cuffs on tight?” His brother had given him a look when he’d produced the handcuffs last night. Stan hadn’t gone in to it and still didn’t plan on going into it. He had them for reasons his brother didn’t need to know. It was always a good idea to have some kind of restraints on you if you didn’t particularly want to kill your enemies. Especially when you may or may not have (but most certainly did) piss off some high ranking drug runners. And possibly a mafia family. Possibly.

Ford huffed and pulled open a random cabinet. He took a tin of coffee down before answering. “I had them tight enough that I could not escape.” 

“I don’t suppose anyone ever told you that’s a great way to hurt your hands.” He’d had a cellmate who had permanently damaged his thumbs from cuffs. Handcuffs sucked and no one warned you about that. The bruises weren’t a huge problem, the chaffing sucked but wasn’t the big problem. It was the nerve damage that would kill you. He didn’t know any illegal activity that didn’t require at least mildly functioning hands.

“Of course it could damage them. It’s a hard metal bracelet without give. It’ll obviously cause bruising.” Ford snapped. “However Bill seemed a bit more dangerous than bruised wrists.” 

“I,” Stan tried to say calmly. He sort of succeeded, “was talking about nerve damage. Plus, you can still get out a pair of tight cuffs. Hell, you can get out of any cuffs. Especially if you’re not too attached to your thumbs.”

He’d nearly vomited in Pennsylvania when one of his ‘teammates’ had broken their own thumb to get out of a pair of cuffs. It was a horrible cracking noise. Huh. He hadn’t thought about that in a long time. Moses, he was a green kid back then. He’d had his own kidney removed and it had barely fased him.

“You would know.” Ford muttered. Stan set the package of cheese down a little too hard.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He growled back. His brother had gotten in better shape since high school but Stan was still the bigger twin. He found himself standing to his full height and glaring down at his twin.

“It’s obvious you haven’t been spending the last ten years pursuing legitimate means of employment, Stanley.”

“You fucking nerd, just call me a criminial. That’s what you think, huh? That I, the obvious criminal, would know  _ all _ about handcuffs.” He snarled the words and took an irritated step towards his brother. Ford glared right back at him and slammed the tin of coffee onto the counter. 

Son of a biscuit eating bull dog. He wasn’t supposed to cuss and he wasn’t supposed to get angry. This was his only chance to get Ford back. Plus, there were children around for crying out loud. He was better than this.

“I’m surprised you’re not decorated in gang tattoos.” Ford snapped. Stan stopped and snorted. 

“Ford,” he exhaled and tried to release his anger. Moses, he was weary suddenly. Why could Ford do that to him? He could run from a gang of drug runners and not feel as tired as Ford could make him. He shook his head. “You know I’ve had a phobia of needles since that time we watched that movie with the alien doctor.” Ford’s eyes widened slightly. Of course. What reason would he have to remember that? Stan had forgotten that he wasn’t worth remembering. It had been twelve years. Ford probably didn’t remember anything. Just because Stan couldn’t possibly forget any of it didn’t mean anyone else would. Just because he knew Ford hated having an uneven number of books on his shelf, or that he was terrified of roaches, that his twin could never bring himself to finish off a jar of peanut butter for fear of running out, or that Ford recited pi in his sleep didn’t mean Ford remembered his quirks. 

Stan hadn’t been worth remembering. He hadn’t been needed. 

The anger leaked out of his body and its absence made a strange ache grow in his throat. He recognized it for what it was and turned sharply. He swallowed and glared fiercely at the bologna. There was no way he was going to cry. Not over this. 

“Of course.” Ford muttered. There was a clink of metal against metal and then the sink was being turned on. Stan ignored it all and focused on finishing the lame excuse for sandwiches. Maybe they could find a magical meal along with the magical grove the unicorns apparently lived in. 

The next few minutes were silent. Stan decided to heat the sandwiches up to make them a little less lame. The coffee started to pour so Stan decided to heat some water up as well. Mabel might want hot chocolate or Fidd’s might want tea. Sure enough when the water whistled the inventor wandered into the room with sleep bleary eyes.

“‘Morning.” Stan greeted gruffly. Fiddleford stopped at the counter and blinked at him. 

“How long have you been up?” Fiddleford asked around a yawn. 

“Long enough to secure the perimeter.” He replied in a tone he hoped would sound joking to Ford. He’d gotten rid of the stick messages as soon as he’d felt competently awake. Then he’d found that damn note in the Journal and that had basically set the mood for the morning.

Mabel had made him a sweater. It fit him and everything. She’d somehow know this was his favorite color. She’d been working on it the entire time they’d been traveling. She’d even put a design on it. She claimed it was because she loved him and… Moses, did Stan want to believe that was true. He knew it was probably just that she couldn’t actually bring Bill down without him but… the sweater wouldn’t have been necessary for that. Right?

Fiddleford was nodding. Stan passed him a mug with one of the tea bags he’d been drinking from last night.

“Anything interesting happen this morning?” 

Stan made a quick survey and didn’t see any children. He could hear them moving around upstairs. “I figured out my twin is definitely not into kinky shit.” 

Ford sputtered behind him. He grinned maliciously and switched to a second batch of sandwiches. “I don’t suppose you have any creams for bruises or chaffing? The nerd clamped his cuffs too tight.”

“I don’t reckon we have anything but burn cream and some bandages.” Fiddleford straightened and looked over his shoulder. Dipper was the first to burst into the kitchen with Mabel hot on his heels.

“No fair! You slid down the banister! I didn’t even think that was possible!” She panted. 

“All’s fair.” Dipper sing-songed. He stopped by the counter and grabbed two of the prepped plates. “Thanks, Grunkle Stan!” 

“Did ya get the supplies?” He asked as he absently put another plate down for the next sandwich. The boy nodded and pushed his hat up a little. Mabel slid up next to Stan and wrapped her arm around him in a partial hug. He stiffened and couldn’t respond. 

“Thanks Grunkle Stan.” She said gleefully. “We got everything we should need.” She hummed thoughtfully. “Probably a few things that we won’t as well.” She released her hold on him and bounced to the table. She took the plate Dipper had retrieved for her and started chewing noisily. Ford took his seat and avoided looking at anyone which was fine with Stan. 

\-----------------------

Unicorns lived in the middle of nowhere. It was cold despite Stan’s new sweater and his socks were wet. He hated wet socks. 

That would have put him on edge without Mabel’s obvious nerves. She was a nervous chatterer. They made it to the ‘grove’ and he was handed a book to read from. He read the utter gibberish as gruffly as he could and before he could feel entirely ridiculous the ground was shaking. A mini stonehenge popped up and suddenly there was a gate to a not snowy airy.

“Don’t listen to what she says. Unicorns are rotten liars.” Mabel muttered before marching through the magical portal like this was all perfectly normal. Stan followed her because at least the magical grove wasn’t covered in snow.

A few dozen yards ahead of him, lying in front of a waterfall that was creating an endless rainbow, was a creature that sparkled. She was as white as the snow outside with hair that seemed to shift between every pastel color. Her spiraling horn was perfect and glittery and it was all somehow not the weirdest thing he'd seen in this town.

An actual unicorn was reading a book in a magical clearing with her magic hair that they apparnetly needed.

"Ah, visitors!" She gushed without moving her mouth when they were spotted. She sprang to her legs and her horn flashed dramatically. "Welcome to my realm of enchantment!" She dipped her head slightly so that her hair swept over her neck. "I am Celestabellebethabelle, the last unicorn."

Mabel propped her hands on her hips and glared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter title was Breathe 2 am by Anna Nalick


	10. You can feel like part of something if you're part of the scene

Unicorns, as it turned out, were total jerks. Mabel had not been lying. His niece sauntered up to the unicorn who had been reading in the magical grove. She smiled in a cloyingly sweet manner when the unicorn finished speaking and strolled towards her.

“Wow,” she practically cooed in a way that made Stan uneasy, “you’re  _ so _ pretty.”

The unicorn looked down her snout? Muzzle? Sure. Muzzle, at Mabel. Stan did not like the judgmental look in her purple eyes. He’d had that expression aimed in his direction a lot in his life. For as long as he could remember, people had looked down on him. It had gotten so he was more wary when people didn’t give him judgmental looks. Having it directed at Mabel was another matter entirely. 

He decided he hated this unicorn. He was predisposed to dislike her because Mabel obviously had a bad history with her. Now that dislike was raging and making his stomach tight.

“Come in, come in.” Celestabellebethabelle neighed, “Just, take off your shoes. I have a whole thing about shoes.” She nudged her head forward and stomped the ground a little impatiently.

“It’s snowing outside.” Stan snapped impatiently. The unicorn raised her head and glared at him. He glared right back. 

“But not in here.” She dipped her head and pointed at his boots with her horn. “Take them off.”

“Listen, chick, we just need some hair.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. Mabel had already slipped her shoes off but he wasn’t about to. It was cold outside this magic bubble and he had wet socks. He wasn’t going to make them muddy as well.

“Hair?” The unicorn exclaimed as she raised her head. Her voice was getting annoyingly high pitched. “Very well. To receive a lock of my enchanted hair, step forth, girl of pure perfect heart.”

“Why’s it gotta be a girl?” Stan asked before he could stop himself. Mabel was smirking with amusement so he hadn’t spoiled anything yet. She didn’t hide her opinions. She’d let him know if he was annoying her. Not that he’d care if he was irritating her. The unicorn was obnoxious enough that he’d risk annoying Mabel.

The unicorn leveled her gaze on Stan and the air around them seemed to grow charged with static. He didn’t need any magic unicorn powers to know Celestabellebethabelle did not like him. He’d had a shitty last two days so that was fine with him. He was done with polite behaviour. 

“I don’t have to use my magic to know that you are  _ not _ pure of heart!” She sang-shouted the last word and stomped her front hooves on the grass in emphasis. She was staring at him like she expected those words to hurt him. As if he wanted to be pure of heart or something. Stan didn’t need some uppity unicorn to let him know he wasn’t a good person. Moses, he’d always known that. 

Mabel, however, was still entirely unfazed. She shuffled closer to Celestabellebethabelle and smirked.

“What?” The unicorn reeled back dramatically like she’d just been struck. “You? A unicorn can see deep inside your heart, child!” She snorted and glared down at Mabel like she was something disgusting. Mabel’s grin widened but it didn’t quite seem to reach her eyes. He’d seen that sad smile a lot on the ride to this weirdo town.

“So, what qualifies you as ‘pure of heart’?” Mabel tilted her head and made her eyes wider. She looked innocent and curious. He’d spent enough time with her to recognize when she was actually curious. Mainly because he’d seen her be curious a lot. 

Celestabellebethabelle lifted her head haughtily. “To be of pure heart you can’t have done anything wrong.”

“Really?” Mabel dragged the word out and her smile dropped. “You can’t have done anything wrong? Like lying? Or teasing? And you can’t have unicorn hair unless you’re pure of heart?” 

Celestabellebethabelle stomped her hooves. “Yes, and I declare you not pure of heart!” Mabel nodded her head and smiled back at Stan. She beckoned for him to come closer. He went to her side and kept his arms crossed grumpily over his chest.

Mabel cupped her hands over her mouth and looked towards the forest part of the magical grove. “Twilightsapphire!” She called, “Solsticemarcello!”

Celestabellebethabelle reared back in shock. Her cheeks lit a faint pink and she averted her eyes as two other unicorns suddenly appeared. Stan looked at them in shock as he realized what had just happened. Celestabellebethabelle had  _ lied  _ and Mabel had just caught her in that lie _.  _ A hot burst of pride swelled in his chest at the realization. Hot belgian waffles! He was  _ so  _ proud of his grand niece. 

Mabel grinned and swayed a little. “So,” she hummed, “I guess you’re not the last unicorn.”

Celestabellebethabelle turned back to face Mabel and her purple eyes went dark. Stan wanted to applaud. 

“Looks like you’re not pure of heart either.” Mabel added with a slight bounce on her heels. Stan uncrossed his arms long enough to give her shoulder a squeeze. 

“This kid giving you problems, Cbeth?” A red unicorn asked. It had a masculine voice and looked irritated. 

“She’s endeavoring to con us.” Mabel explained cheerfully. She unslung her back pack and pulled out a pair of scissors. “Now, you can give us a few strands of your hair politely or we can fight for it. We’re trying to fight a demon so I don’t-”

She didn’t get a chance to finish as Celestabellebethabelle charged at her. Stan swung his bronze covered knuckles and managed to push the unicorn just enough off her path that she didn’t collide with Mabel. It looked like he was going to get to hit something after all.

\-------------------------------

-| F | O | R | D | -

\-------------------------------

“I’m afraid I find myself confused as to why the two of you decided to come here.” Ford said as he stared into his cup of decaf tea. Of course the coffee was already gone and Fiddleford wouldn’t drink anything caffeinated. His research partner was very careful about anything that could be considered a drug. 

Dipper, who had been sketching in a blue journal, paused with his pen on the paper. He looked up with a confused frown and tilted his head like a dog.

“Huh?”

“You and your sister, why did you come here?” He took a long sip of his tea and grimaced. It was bitter and not in the good way like coffee. He’d scalded the leaves and over steeped it. Fiddleford would be so unhappy.

Dipper set his pen down and perked up a little. “Oh, well, we wanted to make things better. Bill… You saw what he did. He took over Gravity Falls for almost a week. Our Grunkles managed to beat him but there was a big cost. We, uh, wanted to… stop that? We knew the date where everything went wrong so we decided we’d try and get here to stop that thing from happening. Only, everything seemed to go wrong.”

“You have to realize how dangerous that was.” He set his mug down with a louder bang than he’d intended. It hurt his head. “Time travel has the potential to erase the future. Did it not occur to you that you could stop yourselves from even being born? What if you created a paradox?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, man.” Dipper waved his hand dismissively and picked his pen back up. “There are a bunch of time cops that manage all of that. They’ve got a branch devoted to fixing anomalies. If we were doing anything too bad they’d show up and fix it.”

“Time cops?”

Dipper looked at him as though he was trying to figure out how to talk to him. It was a look he’d often given Stan when they were younger and his twin couldn’t understand his schoolwork.

Finally the boy spoke with an apparent non sequitur. “Star Trek Next Generation hasn’t come out yet, has it?” He hummed to himself. Ford felt his mouth drop open. “Did you watch Doctor Who?” He nodded stiffly.

“Good! Time travel works more like that than Star Trek. It’s…” Dipper grinned a little “Wibbly wobbly.” He seemed rather pleased at whatever joke he just made. “It’s not as linear as we seem to think. Don’t worry about it. We won’t mess anything up. This is the… third? Time we’ve used time travel.”

Had Ford not been quite so tired he might have noticed that Dipper had a worried slant to his mouth. Instead he just stared into his tea and tried to summon the will to drink it. He thought he was hungry but he wasn’t certain. It was hard to think.

He couldn’t allow himself to give in to his exhaustion. Bill would take over and Dipper would…

He jolted as a sudden sharp pain flared up in his leg. His hand spasmed on the table and he nearly spilt his tea.

“Don’t fall asleep.” Dipper ordered. Had the kid just kicked him? “If you’re tired we can hook you back up to the bed.” He eyed Ford considering. “There’s a small chance Bill wouldn’t take over. He might be busy elsewhere.”

“I’m fine.” Ford insisted. He pushed himself up from the chair and went to the open pantry. He grabbed the sugar out and took it to the table. He glanced at Dipper’s blue journal and saw that he’d been working on an entry about dreams. He dumped a few tablespoons into the disgusting tea and dropped into his seat.

“They shouldn’t be  _ much _ longer.” Dipper offered in what he clearly thought was an encouraging tone. “It’s already been two and a half hours.”

Had it been that long? Time seemed to have no meaning anymore. It had been days since he’d last slept properly. Despite what he insisted he was clever enough to know that the human body could not go on without sleep. He likely only had a while longer before the hallucinations would set in.

Because Bill had betrayed him. Another person he’d thought a friend had betrayed him. Was it something wrong with him? Was it a fault with his personality that made people want to betray him?

“Hey!” There was a loud bang that followed the unexpected shout on the window behind him. He jumped and spilled the sugary, scalded, tea on his hand.

“Mabel!” Dipper sprang from his chair and jogged to the back door. He tugged it open and was immediately engulfed by his bouncy twin.

“Hey, kiddo.” Stanley greeted as he followed Mabel in. He pat Dipper’s head and shuffled all the way in.

“Did you-“

“Pssh.” Mabel pushed herself free and poked his cheek. “Who do you think you sent? Of course we got the hair.” She pulled a bundle of vibrant hair from her pocket and pressed it into Dipper’s hand. There was a rainbow goo on her glove. She wiped it off on her sweat pants and beamed at her brother.

“They were as annoying as you said they’d be.” Stanley added as he went to the stove. He grabbed the kettle and brought it to the sink. “I take it Fiddsy is still out?”

Dipper confirmed that Fiddleford was still at the store as he shut and locked the door. Mabel went to the bathroom and came back out with the first aid kit. She pulled out the antiseptic and dabbed some on her cheek and arm. Once she finished with herself she stood by Stanley’s side and stared at him till he finally huffed his consent for her to tend to his injuries.

“So we have the components for the spell now?” Ford asked quietly. Dipper brought the unicorn over and set it on the table next to their box of mercury thermometers.

“No.” Dipper sighed and flipped his future journal open. “We still need moonstone. I can go ahead and put the runes down though.”

“Runes?” Stanley asked while Mabel cleaned his arm and put a band aid on it. How had he injured himself? Honestly. He should at least try and be careful.

Dipper smiled eagerly. “Yeah, it’s an actual spell.”

The table suddenly shook under him and Ford jerked upright. He hadn’t realized he was falling forward. He pushed himself up from the table and walked towards the living room. Movement would help him stay awake. He was certain of it.

The room was dim which confused him until he walked all the way inside and saw that the curtains were blocking the window. The lamp was off as well. There was a blanket thrown hap hazardously over the couch as well as a backpack. He recognized it as his brother’s from their school days. It was in poor repair and had been heavily patched.

“Hey.” Dipper followed him into the room and eyed him suspiciously. Apparently he was not to be alone in a room. He didn’t respond to the child and went to his bookshelf. He pretended to peruse it for books.

“So what was that final component?” Stanley asked. Ford hadn’t heard him approach. Great. Why not just invite everyone into the room.

“Moonstone.” Dipper answered without looking away from Ford. “We couldn’t find any in town when we looked earlier. You had some with you in the future, Great Uncle Ford.”

“Well,” Mabel sighed and pushed off from the wall he hadn’t realized she was resting on. “I’m going to go watch the front for Fiddleford.” Ford watched her go with a slight frown. He was so tired.

They had mercury and hair. Where could they get moonstone? Would the fairies have it? They had all sorts of magical ingredients. Moonstone was a fairly common item used in spells. It would stand to reason that they might have some. Or at least have a way… to… obtain…

A punch in the arm brought his mind back into momentary focus. Dipper was frowning up at him.

“You’re nodding off again.” He spoke a little petulantly. As though it were irritating him that Ford was tired. He had not slept in two or three days. What did this child expect from him?

Stanley was watching him from the doorway and that irritated him. He straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest.

“The coffee will be arriving shortly and that will solve that problem.” He exhaled noisily and let his eyes drift off to the opposite wall. He needed to disassemble the portal and find a way to strengthen the weak spot in their dimension they’d intended to punch through. Disassembling the portal would be easy. Getting rid of all the pieces was not as simple but doable. He had no idea how to… do…

He gave his arm a hard pinch and forced himself to go through the digits of pi.

“Was the deal for your body or your mind?” Stanley asked. The question stilled Ford’s thoughts. There was only one deal he could think of but his brother couldn’t know about that. Surely that would be too much. He’d already lost so much of his dignity-surely the universe wouldn’t let his brother know what had transpired in the actual deal.

All he could manage was: “Huh?” 

“With that demon thing. Did you make a deal for access to your body or your mind?”

“Err. My mind.” Ford replied after a moment of thinking.  _ From now until the end of time. _

“That’s settled then. Come on.” Stanley stated as he straightened up. He was ungracefully pushed towards his bedroom. There was no time given to register the fact that his brother knew.

“What are you doing, Stanley?”

“Dipper, get that carpet.” The teenager ran to do what he was asked and spread out the carpet experiment Ford had been working on a few years ago. 

“What are you-” Stanley pushed him onto the carpet. Ford instantly stepped off it. Stanley sighed heavily and stepped onto the carpet. He rubbed his socked feet along the carpet. There were holes in the heel of his socks.

“Stanley, you don’t know what you’re doing. That carpet-” 

“Ford. Shut the heck up. Dipper loaned me his journal.” He reached out and before Ford could react his twin’s hand settled on his upper arm. There was a spark of magical static and suddenly Ford was no longer in his own body. 

“Moses, Ford.” His own voice was speaking but it wasn’t  _ Ford  _ speaking. He blinked through a mildly swollen eye and suddenly realized he was no longer tired. “Take a damn nap.”

“What happened to your stomach?” It was the first thing he noticed after the blurry eyes. His stomach was hurting. Badly. Actually, most of his body hurt. His back was screaming. What had Stanley done to himself?

“None of your beeswax. Just don’t break anything, ‘kay?” Stanley, in Ford’s body, slumped against the wall. “When was the last time this body slept?”

“I haven’t seen him sleep since I arrived.” Dipper answered traitorously. 

“We’re back!” Mabel’s bubbly voice blasted through the house. It made Ford jump which led him to realize he’d hurt his -or rather Stanley had hurt his leg at some point. Dipper brightened up considerably and took a step towards the doorway.

“Were in Great Uncle’s Ford’s room!” He called out. There was the heavy pounding of feet and a moment later Mabel was there. She was still bundled up in a coat and an excessive number of scarves. 

“Hey Grunkle Stan. Hey Great uncle Ford. Bro-bro!” She launched herself at her brother and gave him a snowy hug. He accepted it without resistance. “Fiddleford bought smile dip!”

“Mabel,” Stanley greeted tiredly. “Need help with those groceries?” 

“That’s okay, Grunkle Ford. Grunkle Stan can help. Fiddleford got him…” She trailed off and bit her lip. “Things I requested.”

What had she gotten for Stanley that she hadn’t gotten for him? 

“I am Stan.” Stanley said in mild confusion. 

“Great Uncle Ford! You know that won’t work on us. Twins can tell twins apart.” She laughed and tapped her hand. “At least wear gloves. Not to mention you have a cleft chin, glasses, and a trench coat still.”

Ford’s breath hitched as he looked down at his own hands. Five digits. He hadn’t even thought about it. He only had five fingers. He moved each new digit slowly. It was strange to feel the absence of something this body had never known. But he did feel it. His brain wanted to move the missing digit. 

It was a normal hand. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t a freak.

“Oh!” Mabel exclaimed. He realized he’d zoned out and that Dipper had just explained what was going on. 

“Thanks for the bandages, pumpkin.” Stanley ruffled her hair with a six fingered hand. He didn’t seem to notice the extra digit. Of course. He wouldn’t care that he was a freak. Mabel caught the hand and squeezed it. “You’re welcome, Grunkle Stan.” It was so easy for them. Affection. They just touched without thinking.

They didn’t struggle to do it. 

“I’m going to take a nap. Dipper.” The boy turned to Stanley expectantly. “Can you help me?” 

Dipper nodded. “I’ll get the handcuffs.”

“Good boy. Ford, don’t let that demon take over my body. Unlike you I got a full night of sleep so you should be fine for at least a few hours.” The twins followed him out of the room. He whispered something to them that he probably thought Ford couldn’t hear. “Aim for the stomach. Mabel knows where.”

So. His brother wasn’t convinced this would work. The thought of being taken over in this body was terrifying. It wasn’t his, for one thing, but it was strong. As beaten up as Stanley was, he could tell that much. His brother was strong. 

He also had hearing problems. What had Stanley done to his body? Had he seen anyone about these injuries? Well Ford didn’t have anything else to do for an hour or so. He could do his own investigation.

\-------------------------------

The answer was that Stanley had done a  _ lot _ to his body. There was even a bullet wound on his left shoulder. It was inches away from his heart.

What had happened to him? Who had shot at his brother? How had Ford never heard about it? Why hadn’t Stanley  _ called? _

There were other injuries as well. Scars littered Stanley’s body. Thick, jagged, ugly scars that marked where his flesh had been torn and hurt. There were cigarette burns on his left arm. The wound on his belly was surgical and recent. He used a handheld mri device that Fiddleford had made and discovered that Stanley’s kidney had been removed.

He sat down on the sofa in his room and stared at the wall without seeing it.

He felt numb. He’d just learned that his brother had led a  _ rough _ life for ten years. That his brother had been robbed of one of his organs within the last month and he couldn’t even feel shock. There was just the cold numbness. The indifference to everything. He couldn’t remember the last time he had actually felt anything. 

What was wrong with him? It felt like he was just floating along. Like he was no longer really here. He felt outside of himself. Like he was some passive third party observing his life. Was he even still alive? Had Bill won at some point and not bothered to tell him?

He found himself remembering part of a novel he had read in his senior year. It had been assigned right after the fall out over the…  _ project _ . He’d dove into his schoolwork for solace. Maybe that’s when the numbness had started. He couldn’t remember. 

Anyway… The book had been about war. What was it? Oh yes, Slaughterhouse Five. Kurt Vonnegut. There had been a conversation that had stood out to him. 

_ “How’s the patient?” asked Derby. _

_ “Dead to the world.” _

_ “But not actually dead.” _

_ “No.” _

_ “How nice - to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive.”  _

How nice to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive. Nice. Ha. There was nothing nice about this. He was a failure. His entire life was worthless. It wasn’t Stanley who was a waste or useless. It was Ford. He was worse than useless. He had destroyed everything. His brother’s life and body, his own future, his best friend's sanity, his own sanity, possibly even his world. 

And he was still in Stanley’s body. Stanley’s worn, abused body. Ford who couldn’t even feel sorrow or horror to learn that his brother had been shot.

He wished he could come alive again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made up the unicorn names because I couldn't find any Canon names.
> 
> I'm sorry about the delay. My work has been getting steadily crazier. I hope you're all doing well. So far me and my family have avoided the COVID 19. I hope you all have as well


	11. My Mind Is A House I'm Trapped In

Stan woke up and shivered. He’d gotten cold at some point and wasn’t sure why. He brought his hand up to rub at his face and promptly froze when he realized his hand was cuffed.

Panic cold and liquid poured down his spine and made his nerves tingle. He was lying on a bed and he was hand cuffed to it. What-

Oh. Wait. 

Right. He wasn’t in his body. He was in Ford’s house. Bill.

The kids!

He sprang upright and looked around. His arm was still hooked to the bed like he remembered. It was dark out which left him with no real idea of what time it was. His brother didn’t seem to have a light up alarm clock either. He blinked at the darkness and it was then that he realized he could hear a whistling noise. Like someone with a stuffed up nose was trying to breathe through their nose.

Dipper was asleep in a chair beside him. He was just out of reach of the bed and had his chin resting on his chest. He’d have a crick for sure from sleeping like that. He looked jarringly like Ford with his head bent and his hair covering his eyes. Stan tried to rise from the bed to go to him only to be rudely alerted to his confinement. 

“Dipper,” he called as softly as he could. His voice had never done soft well but it didn’t seem to scare the boy as he came to wakefulness. He groaned and straightened up a little. 

“Ow.”

He leaned forward and the bed creaked loudly. “You okay, kiddo?” 

The boy turned his head and winced. “Yeah, just a little sore.” He regarded Stan with a contemplative expression. There was a bruise on the side of his face that looked like he’d slammed into something. His brown eyes were similar to Mabel’s but slightly darker. They were just as kind.

“It’s still you, right?” Dipper asked as he stood up from the chair. 

“Yes.” He squinted at Dipper. “You should probably test that somehow.”

“Well, I only really know one way. I can shine a light in your eyes. They reflect yellow if you’re Bill.”

Dipper walked towards him. Stan tilted his head up and asked, “Will any light work or does it have to be a flashlight?” 

“Any light. Just so long as there is enough for a reflection.” He grabbed Stan’s chin in his hands and tilted it towards the lamp. He peered into Stan’s eyes and seemed satisfied with what he saw. Stan spent the time familiarizing himself with his nephew’s face. He had a lot of Shermie’s features. It was strange to see the familiar face so much younger and… not quite right. It was close to Mabel but with slightly sharper features. They had the same nose, and the poor kids had the Pines ears. They also had that cowlick that had been passed down to everyone in his ma’s family. 

“You’re clean.” Dipper pulled the key to the cuffs from his pocket and freed Stan’s arm. He shook his hand awake and tried to ignore how weird it felt to have extra fingers. 

“How long has it been?”

“Not sure. A few hours at least. It was light out when we got in here.”

Stan felt a hell of a lot better. He was still sore and a little muddled but he could mostly think and he didn’t feel like he’d pass out at any moment. Honestly, it felt better than his actual body currently did. 

He stood up and Dipper flinched back like he hadn’t expected Stan to be so tall quite so suddenly. Poor Kid. Stan recognized that movement a little too well. Had Ford hurt him? Or-Moses, no - had he been hit by one of his parents?

Shermie wouldn’t hit a kid (or anyone) but he didn’t know anything about his nephew. Currently he was only like, three.

“Sorry,” Dipper hurriedly apologized. He must have seen the shock in Stan’s face. He wasn’t sure how to block emotions on this face. “I, uh, remembered an earlier, er, fight? If you could call it that.” He shrugged a shoulder and turned towards the door. “Great Uncle Ford is pretty big and Bill is a creep.” 

What the hell had that demon done? Moses, he could not wait to kill that thing. He really hoped he’d get the chance to punch that one eyed jerk in the eye. 

They went into the hallway and heard the hum of chatter coming from the kitchen. The rest of their gang was working on dinner. Ford was at the table snapping green beans while he read some dusty looking book. 

“Hey Grunkle Stan!” Mabel greeted cheerfully. She waved a flour covered hand at her brother and uncle before she resumed rolling out what looked like pie crust. Fiddleford was stirring a creamy sauce with what looked like chicken in a big pan. 

The inventor smiled kindly. “Feel better?” 

He nodded his head and looked to Ford who got up with a wince. “Ah, Stanley, good.” He motioned for his brother to follow him and left the room. Stan exhaled through his nose and pushed himself to follow despite how much he didn’t want to. 

The carpet was spread out on the floor like they had left it with a single sheet of paper sloppily taped to the center. “DON’T TOUCH” was written in dark letters that were too cutesy to be anyone but Mabel’s handwriting. 

Ford shuffled onto the carpet and dragged his feet across it. Stan’s body relaxed because apparently Ford didn’t want to talk any more than he did. He was just fine ignoring all their baggage and going through the motions. Hell, maybe they’d never have to talk about it. 

Ford shuffled back towards Stan so he steeled himself for the coming shock and body switching sensation. 

There was the quick sting of a shock on his right arm. The world swirled around him before going quickly black. His entire body throbbed and there was the weird sensation of falling into something. He blinked his eyes a few times and found himself looking through his own unfocused eyes. Everything hurt.

He exhaled weakly and leaned against the wall behind himself. Soft yarn pressed against his skin and it helped to ease some of the pain. He’d forgotten the constant buzz of it. He’d only been in Ford’s body for a few hours but damn, he was going to miss that freedom.

“When did you get shot?”

Stan rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on the words Ford had just said. His voice wasn’t coming in clearly. It felt like all his senses were just a little off.

“Come again?” He dropped his hands and tried to focus his gaze. It was standard blurry now. He should really invest in some glasses. It probably wouldn’t hurt to see clearly if he was fighting a demon. 

Ford straightened and  _ glared. _ “When did you get shot, Stanley. Your arm, right above your heart. That’s a bullet wound.”

“What the fuck? Did you examine me?” His arm went to the scar on his left shoulder self-consciously. He’d never let anyone see that willingly. It was an ugly lump of a scar that was unmistakable. He’d gotten that in Columbia. He’d gotten a lot of things in Columbia. The only good thing was the ability to speak Spanish.

“Stop trying to change the subject, Stanley! You were  _ shot _ ! What kind of life have you been living?!”

“Stop trying to lecture me!” He snapped. He dropped his hand from his shoulder and clenched it into a fist. He felt exposed and scared. He already had no chance of winning Ford’s love again - he’d figured that out years ago. He’d understood somewhere along the dozen years since he’d found himself homeless that Ford simply didn’t care. He wasn’t worthy of being his brother anymore. He’d have to earn that right again. He’d been working on the million to earn his place back. It was taking longer than he wanted (he wouldn’t admit, not even now, that he was never going to make a million) but he was working on it.

Ford had seen the bullet scar. What else had he seen? What else did he know? He looked angry. Did that mean he cared? No. THat couldn’t be it. Don’t play that game, Stan. It always leaves you burned. His family didn’t care.

“I think I have a right to know what sort of person I’m sheltering under my roof!” Ford hissed back. He was trying to make himself taller as if something as petty as height could intimidate Stan now.

“Sheltering under your roof?” He demanded incredulously. What kind of shit was his brother smoking? Stan wasn’t here ‘cause he needed a house. He was here to help Ford fight a demon. End of story. Well… there was at least a chapter in that story for Mabel and Dipper, but that was it. “The hell do you think I am? Homeless? I’m doing fine, Ford! I came here to help you, you ungrateful nerd!”

“Fine?” Ford snarled. “I  _ know, _ you idiot!”

“Know what?” He returned without caring that they were getting loud now. There was no doubt the trio in the kitchen could hear them. 

Ford exhaled dramatically and brought his hand up to his face. He scrubbed his hand over his face as though Stan’s presence was exhausting and utterly draining. 

“I found myself,” his twin started in an irritated manner, “in an uncomfortable amount of pain. What have you been doing about the lost kidney? Have you taken any antibiotics?”

That was too far. It confirmed Stan’s worst fears. “You  _ x-rayed _ me?” Stan asked incredulously. Ford raised a confused eyebrow. “That’s such an invasion of privacy!”

“I didn’t x-ray you.” Ford retorted and propped his hand on his hip like their mother would when she was especially irritated. “It was a mini MRI that Ford created. Besides, you were in my body, Stanley. I hardly think ‘privacy’ is something we can realistically complain about at this point.”

“There’s a difference between having access to something and fucking poking around in someone elses shit!” He snapped back. Ford’s glare darkened. Stan didn’t care. He wasn’t sure he’d care about anything right now. It was over. There would be noe impressing his brother now. It’d take a hell of a con to get himself out of this mess. 

“The antibiotics,” Ford muttered, “Have you taken anything? We really can’t afford you getting an infection.”

Of course. Ford wouldn’t care. It’d just be an inconvenience. They couldn’t afford inconveniences right now. Stan could die and it would matter as long as it didn’t hinder their progress on defeating Bill. Screw it. Screw it all. Stan was done with this shit.

He couldn’t make any words come out so he flipped his brother off and shoved his way past him. Hs side was burning now that he was aware of it again. He jerked the door open and stomped off down the hallway. He made a sharp turn towards the front door and paused just long enough to grab his jacket before jerking the door open. He stormed outside and was hit with a burst of utterly frigid air. 

Right. Snow. Why not. Everything else was awful. 

He tried to stomp his way to his car but ended up having to mostly shove his way through the thick snow. It wasn’t as angry as he wanted to move but it was effective at making him work. Work was always a good outlet for rage.

He reached the car and managed to get the snow away from the door enough so that he could open it and climb in. He slammed it shut behind himself and shivered. It was freezing.

The Stanley Mobile managed to crank on the second attempt and roared to glorious life. He turned the heat on and grabbed the blanket out of Mabel’s seat. It had some glitter on it. She seemed to leak the stuff.

He wrapped it over his lap and pulled what was left of his emergency pack of cigarettes out of the glove compartment. He’d picked the habit up in high school and never managed to drop it. He didn’t have much money - especially not for something like cigarettes - but he bought them whenever he could. He hadn’t had one since he’d picked Mabel up and now he was dying for one. 

It took him three tries to get the cigarette lit and then he was taking a long drag off of it. He cracked the window just enough to let the smoke out and sank back against the seat. His eyes fluttered closed and were too heavy to lift back open.

He was so tired. The exhaustion came quick and hit hard. It was like a physical weight pressing down over his body.

Every day was such a struggle. There was no end in sight. Just an endless parade of hard days with nothing to show for it in the end. He was a failure. A screw up who couldn’t even fight a demon without ticking off his brother. 

Who was he kidding? Ford would never take him back. Their relationship - whatever it might have been - was over. He needed to stop pretending it was going to get better

The cigarette smoke grew thick in the car and left him remembering a million different occasions. He’d smoked his first cigarette in this car. Ford had been in the seat next to him trying to make sense of Stan’s handwriting. He’d initially hated the taste of it. It was too much like his father. It tasted like hot summer days in that small apartment. He’d continued because it was expected. He remembered seedy bars and the fights that followed. He could hear the mumble of ‘job’ planning and the harsh burn of cheap liquor. None of the memories were good ones. 

He reclined his chair back and exhaled slowly. Ford knew about the wounds. He knew about the kidney. He knew it all. They were even less identical now. Fitting he’d lose one of his twin organs. Whatever. 

“You know, you don’t have to be the loser twin.”

He jerked hard towards the door at the unexpected voice. It was shrill, and grating, every terrible thing a voice could be. His eyes sprang open and he twisted to see that a yellow triangle was floating in Mabel’s seat. (When had it become Mabel’s seat?)

He stared blankly at the floating shape as his tired mind tried to make sense of what he was seeing. 

“Bill?” The name came to him almost instinctively. This glowing triangle couldn’t be anything but Bill.

“Ooh!” The demon gleamed brighter and his eye widened with pride. “My reputation precedes me! Let me guess, Shooting Star and Pine Tree have told you about me.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” The cigarette was still smoldering between his fingers and it was expensive, darn it. He took a drag off it and irritatedly blew the smoke in the demon’s face. Well, eye. It didn’t really have a face. Bill blinked at him and for a split second Stan could have sworn he saw irritation in the single eye. 

He’d known there was a possibility the dream demon would come for him but he hadn’t really expected it. Mabel had warned him that Bill liked to mess with people. She’d said something else too… Liar? Was that what she’d called Bill?

“Stanley Pines,” The bright yellow glow faded slightly, “the man who changed the world.” 

“That the kind of shit you tried to feed my brother?” He recognized the silvery tone of the words. This… thing, was trying to butter him up. It was a sure sign of a con. Great. Just what he needed. He couldn’t even smoke in peace.

“We both know it didn’t take much to play Ford.” Bill hummed. It was weird that it could talk without a mouth. Stan hadn’t noticed the lack of mouth right away but now he couldn’t  _ not _ notice it. How did it talk? Was it doing that mind thing that those people in the comic books he used to read did? Telepathy? Was that what it was called?

“Would you piss off?” He grumbled while he tried to think. His twin might be an idiot and Stan might be a little (a lot) mad at him but that didn’t mean he was going to let this demon just rag on him. Ford had never been hard to con. It wasn’t something worth gloating over.

“Why would you want that, Stanley? When I could give you  _ so _ many things. That million you’ve been chasing all these years… That amount is nothing next to what I could give you.” He waved his stick figure arm and the front windshield was no longer giving him a view of snow. It was suddenly a wavy picture of New York. There was huge building beside the Empire State Building that had the words ‘Stan Co’ in large, glowing, red letters. It was at least a hundred stories tall. The scene zoomed into the building and shot upwards before going through one of the windows. He saw a beautiful penthouse apartment setting like something from a movie. He was sitting on a massive sofa with two gorgeous dames leaning on his arms. He was in an expensive suit and they were laughing at a story he was telling. That wasn’t too shocking, all in all. He’d been in a few situations a little like that. Mostly thanks to an intricate con. The shocker was the guy seated at the other end of the couch. It was his Pa. He was in poorly kept clothes and his glasses had a cracked lens. 

“Thanks, son.” His pa was saying quietly in a mournful tone. “I, I can’t pay you back. I lost everything. The business tanked after you left. I’m so sorry. I was  _ so _ wrong about you.”

“Cut it out!” Stan’s voice wasn’t near as hard or loud as he wanted it to be. It was constricted and the words wedged tightly in his throat. His eyes burned at seeing his father needing him for money. How had the demon known he was kicked out until he could earn a million? It had to be Ford. Moses, what all had his brother told this thing?

“Too much?” Bill laughed. “Let me change the scene then.” He held his hand up again and now the wind shield was showing a picture of Ford and Mabel at a park. They were both on the swingset. Mabel was pumping her legs furiously to see how high she could go while Ford swung gently and watched. She launched herself out of the swing at the top of the arc and went flying through the air. Stan caught her before she could fall to the ground and spun her around. Her laughter bubbled up into the air like glittery sunshine and made his heart thump.

“I love you!” She giggled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He was wearing a sweater she'd obviously made and he looked healthy and clean. She did as well. There were none of the bruises or scratches that marked her current, cheerful, face. She was clinging to him like it was her favorite place to be. Like she trusted him and loved him. Like he was one of her very favorite things.

Ford raced up to them and looped his arms around them both. He was laughing as well and the scene looked so natural that Stan’s throat tightened. His eyes burned and it felt like his heart would never beat properly again.

“You know, if you listen to Pine Tree - Dipper, they’ll have to go.” 

That stole the breath from Stan’s lungs like a physical blow to his chest. It  _ hurt _ . Somehow his stupid brain hadn’t thought about that part. This wasn’t Mabel’s time. The twins didn’t belong here. They’d time traveled here to help them and someday, when this was over, they’d have to time travel back.

They’d leave and he’d be alone again.

Bill was still talking but Stan couldn’t hear him. He couldn’t hear anything but the rush of blood in his ears.

\-------------------------------

-| F | O | R | D | -

\-------------------------------

The door slammed and Ford was almost instantly hit with a hot well of shame in his stomach. The force of it startled him. He hadn’t meant to yell at his brother.

It was Stanley’s fault for being so stubborn! Couldn’t he see that Ford was just trying to help? His injuries were a liability they couldn’t afford at this precarious point in their plan.

Still, he might have gone a bit too far. He had seen Stanley wince upon returning to his body and it had made him angry. His brother shouldn’t have even been here. He shouldn’t be cleaning up the mess Ford had made. He shouldn’t be exerting himself constantly when he was so injured.

He pushed himself off the wall and left the room. He could hear the stilted conversation in the kitchen and he just… couldn’t go in. It seemed like the most difficult thing in the world to move towards that brightly lit room. He didn’t have the energy to take even a step towards it. They wouldn’t judge him for his fight. They’d be  _ kind _ . Understanding and sympathy would lace their voices and fill their eyes. He couldn’t stand that right now.

He turned towards the front door instead. He really shouldn’t leave Stanley outside. His twin had a tendency to try and bolt when things got awkward or tough. When they were young he would grab Ford and bolt but now he highly doubted his twin would give a second thought to him. 

(He’d be right not to. Ford had brought a dream demon into this world and now everyone was in danger.)

He pulled his trenchcoat on without feeling the warmth the coat normally brought. He didn’t bother to button it up but did check his pockets to make certain he had a journal and pen. 

He carefully opened the door and quietly shut it behind himself. His heart gave a strange twist in his chest as he saw the Stanley Mobile parked in the snow in front of his house. He could hear the rumble of the car from the porch and the familiar cadence had him remembering summer nights spent on the hood of the car while he stargazed with his twin. They’d plan out their future in the stars like they were sailors of old plotting their course across the sea. Stanley would have snuck a beer and they’d pass the drink back and forth as they slowly got a little buzzed. His brother would tell a wild story that’d have Ford with tears of laughter streaking down his cheeks. He’d urge Ford to tell him about the wildest places he’d read about and they’d talk about what kind of adventures they’d find together on the distant shore.

And here it was in his yard. The Stanley Mobile only looked a little older. It had obviously been taken care of. 

He didn’t realize there were tears on his cheek until they made him shiver. He brushed them away absently and tried to shove away the sorrow that was making his chest hurt. He wasn’t sure what the emotion was, exactly. It was a strange mixture of longing, sorrow, disappointment, and nostalgia. 

The door to the car burst open and Stanley stumbled out with a curse. He slammed the car door shut and that was what made Ford clamber down the steps of his porch. Stanley  _ never _ slammed the door to the Stanley mobile. It was treated tenderly and with great care.

“Leave me alone!” Stanley snarled into the car. He didn’t seem to be aware of Ford’s presence. Ford slowed his pace regardless and stared at his brother. Stanley looked terrible. There was no nice way to put it. He was overweight but his skin didn’t look healthy and he was skinny in weird places. He had scars and nicks and his hair was greasy. His jacket was heavily patched, his jeans were ripped, and his shoes were old. The sweater was the only nice thing he had and that was because it had obviously been recently made by Mabel.

His twin turned away from the car and started at seeing Ford. He blinked and slumped against the car.

“Of course. What do you want?”

“You can’t be out here” He stuttered. His tone was timid and the sound of it made hot irritation curl in his stomach. “It isn’t safe. What if that Gremoblin came back?”

Stan gave a bitter snort. “Careful, Four eyes, someone might think you care.” He straightened a little but was still using the car to support his weight. 

“Honestly, now is not the time.” Ford huffed. Why did everything have to be so difficult with his twin? He was reckless in the worst ways and so stubborn Ford wanted to rip his hair out. Why was he bothering? His brother had betrayed him and ruined his dreams. They wouldn’t be here if Stanley hadn’t destroyed his project. None of this would have happened. “Come back in.”

“What if I don’t want to? I came to help but i’m not going to stay and get yelled out.” He crossed his arms over his chest and twisted so his back was against the car door.

“Do you honestly think I care if you stay out here? I’ll leave you out here. I’m not going to risk that gremoblin coming back and getting a hold of me. Not with-” He was cut off before he could finish his statement.

“Wow,” Stan murmured in a low voice that made Ford uncomfortable. It made him think of when Pa would lecture them and Stan would lose all the passion and fight he had. “You must think I’m a special kind of dumb.” he laughed without mirth. Stan had a wonderful laugh and the harsh, barking noise he was making now made Ford’s skin crawl. “I always knew you didn’t think I was smart as you- though no one’s smart as you- but I didn’t think you thought I was a moron. Gees.” He leveled Ford with a stern, depressed gaze. “I  _ know _ you wouldn’t risk-hell, you wouldn’t risk anything for me.”

His twin pushed off the car and ran a hand through his messy, tangled hair. “God, Ford, you’ve been proving that for  _ twelve _ damn years. I was seventeen with five dollars to my name. I was homeless and jobless and degreeless. I had nothing but a rusty car without gas. You didn’t do anything to help me. You turned your back on me. What’dya think was gonna happen? That I was gonna make a million while I lived out of my car? You’re supposed to be brilliant, Stanford.” He shrugged. “I figured out after the first year that you didn’t care about me. Took me another five to stop hoping that you might care again.” He shook his head and gave that horrible laugh once more. He walked towards the house stiffly and Ford shot out a hand to stop him. Stan stilled him with a raised hand.

“Don’t.” He simply said. “Don’t bother. I’m fine. I won’t catch a cold or infection or what-the-hell-ever you were worried about me getting. Mabel got me bandages and some kind of med so I’ll be fine.” He rolled his head and his neck cracked. He sighed and went to the door while Ford was frozen halfway between the door and car. “I always am.”

It was all wrong. Everything was wrong. He hadn’t meant to say any of that. He wanted to tell his brother that he was wrong and that he did care but-

Stanley was already gone and Ford hadn’t managed to say anything. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter title was Skin by Boy.


	12. Don't pay no mind to the demons (They fill you with fear)

They didn’t speak again for the rest of the night. Ford looked for his brother but couldn’t quite seem to find him. The twins gave him reproachful looks when he came back inside and Fiddleford was uncommonly quiet.

He went to his room as soon as he could get away with it and cuffed himself for the night. Dipper showed him how to wrap a clean sock around it so he wouldn’t hurt his hand or wrist. 

He sat down at his desk and grabbed out his journal. He flipped to the page with the portal design and stared at it. 

It was beautiful and simplistic in a strange way. It was to be his magnum opus. He would change the world through it. No one would ever look at him and see Stanford Pines, the six fingered freak from Glass Shard Beach, again. They’d see Doctor Pines, the man who found out how to travel between dimensions. There would be scientific laws named after him.

He was a failure. He was nothing but the freak son of Filbrick Pines. His greatest achievement was graduating with his numerous degrees a few years early. Was he any better off than Stanley?

His twin was the one that was supposed to be destined to be a failure. He’d struggled in school and didn’t have the attention span to succeed in the commercial world. Stanford was the one that was supposed to go places. Now, a decade later, he was no better than his screw up brother. He had a roof over his head but he didn’t own it. It was paid for by grants that he would no longer be able to keep. He wouldn’t have anything to send them and then he’d be liable to pay the entirety of the grant back.

He didn’t have that kind of money. He didn’t have any money. He was without any other means of supporting himself if he lost his grants. The townsfolk wouldn’t be particularly likely to hire him. They thought he was a freak. 

They weren’t wrong.

All because of  _ Bill. _ His mind hissed the word venomously and anger made his skin hot.

He’d always had a temper. It was a trait they’d inherited from their father. Stanley had a loud anger that was far more obvious than his but overall, his brother was rarely really angry. When he did get angry it was usually just a quick spike that faded almost as quickly as it came. Stan would punch a pillow or bang his fist on a desk and he’d feel better. The only thing that truly riled him and continued to rile him was when someone hurt a member of his family or insulted their shared dreams. 

Ford was the one who could really hold a grudge. He got frustrated frequently and it took very little for that frustration to morph into anger. It would grow hot and consuming until it hardened into a ball of something permanent and dark.

Fiddleford had gotten drunk one night while they were in college and commented that it was probably because of how little confidence he had in himself that he even let things rile him up. He’d ignored his friend for at least three days for that unremembered comment. 

But Bill had brought it all back out. He was such a fool. Why had he let himself believe that a powerful creature from another world would need him? What possible reason could Bill have had for the wonders he’d tried to convince Ford of?

He slammed his journal shut and hurled it at the opposite wall. The dull thump of it hitting the wall did nothing to alleviate the rage building up in him. 

He fell back on his bed and glared at the ceiling. 

“Hiya Sixer, what’s got your panties in a bunch?”

He jerked up right and glared at the yellow triangle that was floating a few feet in front of him. He hadn’t actually had a conversation with Bill since he’d learned the truth. The triangle had seemed to disappear unless he wanted to physically take over his body. Ford had no memories of those moments. 

“Cipher!” He snarled, “what are you doing here?”

“I’ve been here the entire time, Sixer. Remember? You’re mine until the end of time. We made a deal.” Bill reappeared right in front of him and made Ford flinch backwards so that his cuffed hand jerked against the restraints. Blue flame lit the yellow triangle and the warmth of it turned Ford’s stomach.

“Get out of my house and mind, Cipher.”

Bill floated backwards and twirled his cane like a cheap vaudeville act. “Why would I do that, Sixer? There’s so much fun to be had here, now! You’ve added new players.” He spun his cane through the air and a giant picture of Dipper filled the space behind him. “This one is a bit too serious for my taste.” He tapped his cane against his palm and it wavered to Mabel. “This one is fun. She’s wild and chaotic.” He tapped it again and for a moment FIddleford was there. Bill rolled his eyes and the image changed to Stanley from their fight a few hours earlier.

“But this guy is who I’m  _ really _ interested in.”

Ford hadn’t thought he could feel any more alarmed. Seeing his baby brother beside Bill was terrible. Every scar and bruise and speck of dirt seemed to be amplified in the image. Stanley had always been larger than life in his mind. Invincible and fearless and brilliant. He was always ready to fight and protect as well as spin some ridiculous story to get out of trouble. Ford had always admired that about his twin. Even when he’d hated himself so much for being weak and scared.

His brother shouldn’t look like that. It wasn’t that he was injured and dirty- Stanley had spent their entire childhood that way. Stanley looked defeated. Even when their pa had thrown him onto the street, there had been fire in Stanley’s eyes. He hadn’t been defeated. He’d been hurt and scared but not defeated. 

“Don’t you  _ dare.” _ In all his life Ford had never heard his voice sound so low and angry. It sounded like his pa had when someone had tried to mug them and ma. “You will not touch my brother.”

Bill laughed and hovered closer. “Sixer, what makes you think I haven’t already? He’s sooooo interesting!” Bill looked over his shoulder at the image and his eye narrowed with something like hunger. “So much sadness and anger all mixed up!” He laughed and the sound broke something in Ford. He lunged forward as far as he could and swung at the demon. He missed and nearly fell off the bed. Bill floated closer.

“Ooh, not bad, Sixer! I made you mad.” He laughed again. “He’ll be fun to play. I already know all his cards.” The eye darted over to him and he could feel amusement radiating off the demon. “Thanks for all the info. It would have taken me awhile to get a read on him otherwise.” He laughed again as Ford fought against his stupid handcuff. “Why do you even care, Sixer? This guy ruined your life, remember?”

Ford found himself standing in his childhood living room again watching teenager versions of himself and his twin. Stanley was laughing as Ford begged to understand why he had destroyed his project. 

“Now’s there nothing to distract us from our treasure hunting dreams!” Stanley swung his arm over Ford’s shoulder and pointed towards the window like it was some far distant ocean. “Just think of it, Poindexter! Babes and treasure and adventure! Why let something stupid like a college get in the way of that?”

“Oh,” Bill laughed, “That’s right! You’re always being betrayed. Even your family plays you. It’s  _ your fault,  _ you gullible idiot.”

And then Ford was alone in his room with nothing but the anger and fear and guilt.

\-----------------------   
-| S | T | A |N |-   
\-----------------------

Stan was pretty sure it would hurt less if he just died. He felt sweaty and clammy and his side was tender in places that weren’t even close to the incision. It was probably infected which was just dandy. Fiddleford had given him antibodies or something so it would probably clear up. Probably.

Regardless he felt like shit and had to get up. Ford had once again spent the night cackling like an insane person and when he wasn’t cackling there was the sound of movement outside the house. He’d secured the premises before forcing himself to sleep. Now it was morning (probably) and he needed to get up. He was trying to distract himself with Ford’s stupid journal but that too had backfired because Stan’s life was on a loosing streak. As if he wasn’t tender enough from their stupid arguments the night before, now the universe decided to sock him in the jaw once more. It really liked knocking him on his ass and reminding him just how much his brother didn’t like him. 

_ Perhaps he can yet prove his worth to me. Perhaps the mistakes of the past can be undone. _

And wasn’t that the difference between them? Ford had never had to prove his worth to Stan. He’d always been worth everything. There was no ‘prove’ there. He was Stanford Pines, Stan’s twin and the most important thing in the world. Stan had always been willing to do what it took for him. 

And, yeah, he was a screw up and not as valuable as Ford, but did that mean he had to prove his worth? Wasn’t being his twin worth anything?

Whatever. It wasn’t anything Stan didn’t already know. Ford was just writing down what the rest of the world already knew. He was worthless and his twin didn’t care. What was the point of a twin on it’s own? It was something wrong and sad. A half of a whole. 

Was there even a point to getting up? The hope of reconciling with Ford had driven him for twelve years but it could drive him any longer. Was there even a point to going on? Dipper and Fiddleford would stop Bill. The kid already had in their own world. 

What was the point? Why did he keep going on? Why did he keep fighting this pointless fight? Every time he got up he just got knocked down again. He was tired and weary to his very soul.

Would anyone even care if he just never got up again?

“Grunkle Stan!” There was an excited squeal and then a bundle of glitter and yarn covered girl was jumping on top of his stomach. Warm arms snaked around his chest and squeezed him. “Good morning!”

He hastily closed the journal and tried to sit up. Mabel didn’t release her hold on him. 

“Hey, Sweetie. What’s up?”

“Dipper said he’s going to put the unicorn hair up and the other spell stuff so we just have to put the moonstone up when we get it. Can you help?”

“Sure?” He didn’t mean it to be a question but it was still one anyway. She squealed delightedly and jumped off him and onto the floor. She knocked the journal off the couch and under the table but didn’t seem to notice. She offered him a hand up and he couldn’t help but notice it was stained with paint and markers. He liked her hands. She’d clearly used them a lot and had a firm grip. She wasn’t afraid of getting messy. He let her take his hand and pushed himself up right. Dipper peered around the corner at that moment and beamed.

“Cool, you’re up. Fiddleford’s working on breakfast while we set up the magic circle.”

When had his life gotten so weird?

“Hey,” Dipper walked fully in the room and tilted his head in worry. “You okay?” He glanced at Mabel for confirmation before studying Stan again. “You’re like, really pale, man.”

“Just tired.” He smiled and rolled his neck. There were a few cracks that just showed he’d spent the night on a couch. 

Mabel was still holding his hand and gave it a little tug to move him forward. DIpper came up on his other side and took his hand as well. They pulled him towards the hallway with eager chatter that he could barely hear. He was thinking of a conversation he’d had with Mabel in the car. 

_ You’re my family, Grunkle Stan. _

Her eyes had been so sincere. 

_ You’re my Great Uncle. My favorite Great Uncle! I love you a lot. _

The words seemed to wrap themselves around him like a hug. He’d been so shocked that she’d called him her family-that she’d  _ claimed _ him-that he hadn’t really registered the rest of her statement. That she loved him. That he was her favorite… Ford was her Great Uncle too which meant that she preferred Stan to Ford.

Had that ever happened before?

And there was Dipper to consider as well. The kid wasn’t as verbal as his sister but he’d have to be blind to miss the way the kid relaxed around him. There was a demon in the house. Someone relaxing in that place was about as trusting as you could get.

Stan grit his teeth and followed the kids outside. Ford may hate his guts and not care if he lived or died, but there were a pair of twins who did care. He’d live on for them. Whatever happened, he’d keep fighting for that. Even if they ended up back in their proper time, he’d still fight on. In twenty years those kids would be born and Stan would be damned if he let them grow up without a Grunkle in their life. He had to teach Mabel how to make glitter bombs and cheat at cards. He had to teach Dipper how to lock pick and hotwire a car.

He was going to be there for every moment of it. He had lost his first family but damn it all, he’d make another one.

\-------------------------------   
-| M | A | B | E | L |-   
\-------------------------------

Her Grunkles had been fighting again, of course, so they were going to make it better. Dipper had been hesitant but Mabel got him on her team easily enough. She wasn’t sure why he always bothered to act like he wasn’t going to go along with her plan. 

It was supposed to be a fun and light hearted activity that they could do. It was magic, after all. The first time they’d done this spell her Grunkles had laughed and relaxed around each other.

She’d kind of forgotten that they’d basically ignored each other before and after. They’d also kind of ignored each other during. None of that mattered though because the power of Mabel would win.

It wasn’t currently but, okay… Mabel was out of her depth. 

Every time she let the two Grunkles out of her view they said mean things to each other and walked away even sadder. Dipper was no help. He hated that kind of conflict. Fiddleford also hated conflict and was trying hard not to run away. Dipper had filled her in on what happened the first time and while she admired his courage this time around she was irritated that her Grunkles consolation seemed to rest on her shoulders. 

If she could get Robbie a girlfriend, she could do this. 

They were outside and the sun was sort of shining. It had snowed at some point in the night and it had smoothed out the ground where they’d stomped their way to the unicorns. They’d probably have to leave to find fairies soon. Hopefully they weren’t like the unicorns.

She passed Dipper a piece of unicorn hair and he pasted it to the house. They’d done about ten strands already and she could see the faint shimmer in the air from it. Stan and Ford were about ten feet back with their arms crossed over their chests in matching poses of discomfort. 

“Please just talk.” She didn’t mean to blurt the words but they came out and now they were hanging in the air. Dipper gave her a horrified look as he accidentally squeezed glue onto the snow.

“What about, Sweetie?” Stan huffed. She wanted to hug him but she couldn’t right now. 

“You know about what.” She returned just as quickly. She caught him with her gaze and watched him squirm a little.

“We’re not talking about that night.” Ford replied shortly. He turned his head to glare at the nearest snow bank. 

“What night?” Stan growled. “The one when I got kicked out?”

“You destroyed my project!” Ford shrieked. Mabel jumped and almost dropped the unicorn hair. “You cost me my future because you wanted to go sailing!”

“I didn’t mean to!” They were both shouting now and seemed to forget that Mabel and Dipper were there. “What does that even matter? You went to a fancy college and got what you wanted! What did I get? Abandoned!” Mabel could see spittle flying from his mouth. Ford moved closer and tried to look bigger.

“You sabotaged me! That’s why he kicked you out.”

“The bag was already packed.” The words weren’t shouted. They weren’t even particularly angry. They were just said. Dipper didn’t even bother to stop gluing the unicorn hair to the side of the house. He said it like it was something obvious. Like he was observing the fact that it was sunny outside. 

Ford and Stan both blinked at him. Neither seemed to comprehend what he was saying. She was amazed they even heard him. Dipper continued his task as if it didn’t much matter. Mabel imagined it probably didn’t. He’d said his piece. She knew it cost him a lot to say that much. He idolized Great Uncle Ford. If he sided against him in  _ this _ argument… well, there was no telling how much it might hurt their relationship. 

Mabel, however, was fine with ruffling Ford’s feathers. She’d only spent a few days with this Ford. She’d nearly been killed on three different occasions with this Stan. She was more focused on fixing her broken teacups relationship with each other. 

She rounded on Ford and propped her hands on her hips. Her knuckles smarted but she told them mentally to get over themselves. It was their turn to take one for the team. 

“Yeah, why did he already have a duffel bag with Grunkle Stan’s clothes in the hall closet?” She pointed her finger at his chest, “You didn’t see another one in there, did you?” She could see Stan’s face out the corner of his eyes. His mouth was open and he looked stricken. It was enough to make tears spring to her eyes. She couldn’t imagine driving anyone, let alone her  _ family _ out of their home. Even when Grunkle Ford was being mean, she couldn’t imagine kicking him out. 

She could still remember the terror she’d felt when they been kicked out of the Mystery Shack. It was really small potatoes compared to what Grunkle Stan had gone through but it had stunk and been the second worst part of their trip. (First worse was a tie between seeing her Grunkle lose his mind and waiting to see if her or Dipper would be picked to die)

She focused on the moment at hand again. “Great Grandpa,” and boy did she hate saying that. She was related to that monster. She couldn’t very well call him any of the names she was thinking though. He was still their dad and they hadn’t gotten to the point where they saw him for what he was. (A big, ugly, jerkface.) 

“Great Grandpa,” She swallowed and used the hate to make her words clear, “only packed one for Grunkle Stanley. I bet he packed it the day he got told about WCT.”

Dipper rolled his eyes at the school name. They both had a lot of opinions on that subject as well. None of them nice. He had spent hours researching them and didn’t at all like what he found. Mabel had plans to visit WCT one day and break something there. She wasn’t sure what yet. She might get Grunkle Stan to join her. She bet he’d get a kick out of it.

“He was just waiting for an excuse.” She said the words with finality and went to Dipper. He passed her the glue bottle. She squeezed it out in a neat line like she had seen him do last time. 

“I didn’t break your project on purpose.” Stan said quietly after a really long moment. “I hit the table and the piece broke off. I put it back on. I…” She saw him swallow thickly in her peripherals. “I’d never deliberately hurt you like that.” He looked frustrated with himself and Ford and gave his head a hard shake. “Whatever. It happened.” He huffed and dropped his arms so he could stuff his hands in his pockets. “You kids holler if you need anything.” Then he went back into the house.  


Dipper fidgeted and finally looked back at Ford. "I'm sorry about that college, Great Uncle Ford. They should have at least looked at your theory and research even if your model wasn't working. I'm not sure why you had to settle for Backupsmore and I know it really made life more difficult. It would have been a great opportunity for you." Mabel tried not to role her eyes. It was her opinion that they both took college a little too seriously.

She did feel like she'd been a little mean earlier. "Did you sleep any last night?" It was the wrong thing to say. Ford stiffened and lost what little color he had. 

"I'm going to get some coffee. Will you two be alright?" He nodded absently at their confirmation and went back inside.

"That could have gone better." Dipper sighed. Mabel shrugged. 

"To be fair, it could have gone a _lot_ worse. At least Bill didn't pop up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could they be ready to talk? Who knows! I certainly don't xD  
> Last chapter was Mansion by NF. I highly recommended it for giving voice to anxiety, depression, and trauma.


	13. Does anybody have a map? (Happen to know how the hell to do this?)

Ford couldn't understand how he had never realized the bag was already packed. Of course, he had been distracted at the time, but that was hardly an excuse. There had been too many emotions racing through his body and mind to pick anything apart. He’d been consumed by a weird mix of rage and guilt when he’d turned his back on his brother. He’d looked around his empty room and fell into a thoughtless void. 

He had no memories of the week after Stanley’s exile. It was all gray. His first memory of post Stanley life was waking up from a nightmare and dropping his hand down for his brother to grab. It was a silly habit they’d had since they were given the bunk bed. They had never been silent dreamers and when one of them got a nightmare the other one almost always woke up. The frightened twin would reach up or down for the other twin. They’d clasp hands and hold on until the frightened twin fell asleep. It didn’t do to share a bed. Pa had caught them doing that once when they were younger and the punishment had deterred them from doing it again. But the hand holding was safe. It didn’t feel weak or strange in the dark cover of night. It was comforting to know they weren’t alone. Someone who cared was always there and ready to reach out. 

No one had grabbed his hand and it had fully hit him that Stanley was gone. He should have felt sad but he only felt angry. Angry at himself for reaching for his twin and angry at Stanley for all that he’d done. 

Anger was easier than sorrow. Sorrow felt like weakness. Ford _ hated _ feeling weak. 

He’d jerked his hand back up into his bunk and curled up in an angry ball. Tears of frustration had burned his eyes and he’d been unable to fall back asleep.

But he couldn’t deny what the kids had said. The bag had been packed.

Had his pa been planning on kicking Stanley out? What would have happened if his project hadn’t broken? Would Filibrick have kicked Stanley out after graduation or would his next mistake have seen him being booted out?

How had he missed it?

And Stanley claimed he hadn’t intended to break the machine. Ford had a vague memory of Stanley saying something to that effect on that night. He’d just ignored him and Stanley had never out right denied breaking his machine. Maybe they could have come to an understanding but Filibrick had found out too quickly. But if that was true… Ford had lost twelve years with his brother. It wasn’t entirely his fault, but it would at least be partly his fault. 

“Whatcha doin’, Stanford?” Fiddleford’s friendly drawl drew Ford out of his reverie. He was standing with a coffee pot in his hand and an empty mug in his other hand. He’d meant to pour himself a cup.

“Thinking.” He poured the now tepid coffee and put it back on the machine. His friend came over to lean against the counter next to him. He had a can of Pitt in his hand that he hadn’t opened yet. 

“‘Bout anything useful?” The can opened noisily and the sharp scent of artificial peach filled the air.

“Not particularly.” 

Fiddleford nodded as though he understood and took a sip of his drink. Ford did the same with his less than palpable coffee. 

“You know,” the inventor mused as though whatever he was about to say had just come to him, “I reckon part of your communication problem with your brother is that you’ve done nothin’ but that. We both know you do your best thinkin’ when you ain’t thinkin’. You need something to work on so you can work through all this.” 

He couldn’t quite decipher what his friend was saying. His drawl was thicker than usual which meant he was stressed and tired. 

“What?”

Fiddleford locked eyes with him. “You need something to work on so you can sort through your thoughts and emotions. I went to college with you, remember? I know how you work. You overthink if you’re just thinking. I’d normally recommend that thing we got in the basement but that’s not going to work right now.”

“Then what would you suggest?”

Fiddleford took another sip of his drink. “You’re not gonna like it.”

“I haven’t liked much of anything this last week.” He was certain he’d had fun at some point. He just couldn’t quite place it. 

“True,” Fiddleford dipped his head in succession. “I’d recommend you fetch the moonstone. Furthermore, I’d recommend you take Stanley with you.”

His brain seemed to stall out. He had the mug halfway to his lips and just stood staring straight forward at nothing. 

“You okay there?” Fiddleford asked like he was inquiring about the quality of Ford’s coffee and not why he had frozen mid movement like a deer in headlights. 

“Why would you suggest such a preposterous thing?”

“Probably ‘cause it’s preposterous and I have a big family.” He shrugged. “It might not do any good but I reckon that if you two spend time together alone not trapped here you might actually have a conversation.” He took another sip of his drink. “It might solve whatever this is.” He held up a hand before Ford could interject. “I don’t know what happened - I have theories but that’s all - and I don’t  _ need _ to. That’s for you two to know. I can say that I know three, maybe four, things. One, you still love Stanley. I never met that man and didn’t know you had a twin but I’m willin’ to bet that every story you told me about Shermie was actually about him. 

“Two, I know your brother really loves you. He came here with nothing but a kid’s word to help you face a demon. You don’t do that just out of a pact instinct. That’s love.” He held up a hand and lifted up three fingers. “Third, those kids are crazy about both of you and somethin’ traumatizing happened that made them come back to stop it.” He lifted a fourth finger. “Bill is  _ really _ determined to keep you two fighting.”

“Why-” He cut himself off because it was obvious. Bill had already tried to play him against Stanley numerous times. 

“Just consider it.” Fiddleford pushed away from the counter and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “We all want you free of this demon.”

\-----------------------------

“Stanley,” He could not believe he was doing this, “Would you come with me?” 

His brother was sitting in the living room with Dipper’s version of his journal. He had his finger marking the spot he’d stopped on. Stanley had always traced along the line he was reading.

“Come where?” It wasn’t a refusal but the wary tone nettled Ford. It wasn’t like he was going to bite his brother. He’d been mostly cordial. 

“With me to get the moonstone.” He forced himself to remain standing straight despite how much he wanted to slouch. He was tired. 

“Oh.” Stanley looked down at the journal for a moment and blinked like it was hard to process what Ford had asked him. “Sure. I got nothin’ else going on.” He stood up stiffly and grabbed his battered back pack off the floor. He shuffled through it and pulled out a few items that he stuffed in his pocket. Ford caught sight of a flashlight and pocket knife but not the other items. 

“We’ll be going through the forest again but not in the same direction as the unicorns. I believe you’ll find the fairy and fae creatures more sociable than the unicorns.” He followed his brother out of the room and pulled the front door open as he spoke.

“And what you've not to do is this: bite no bit, and drink no drop, however hungry or thirsty you be;”

Stanley quoted the words quietly enough that he probably thought Ford couldn’t hear them. He did and they made his heart give a strange little twist of delight. He hadn’t thought about the ballad of Childe Rowland for decades. He seemed to instantly forget his animosity and grinned.

“When did we read that? Was it our eleventh summer?”

“Twelfth.” Stanley offered quietly. 

“I’m surprised you remember that. The sentiment is correct. You don’t want to eat or drink anything offered to you. You also don’t want to out right refuse anything offered.”

“Names as well, right? That’s why we got middle names?”

“Correct!” His tone was delighted and he didn’t care. He’d forgotten that he’d had a fascination with the fae as a child. After their discovery of the Jersey Devil he’d started to look for signs of other creatures. “They can’t control you if they know your full name. We might have the advantage of being twins. If we both go by Stan it would probably confuse them.” He snorted. “Quite a clever con.” He smiled fondly and couldn’t quite stop himself from continuing. “Thank you for the memory. I haven’t thought of that summer in years.”

They had borrowed every fantastical book they could find at their local (poorly stocked) library. They’d been locked in that bedroom for  _ months. _ He’d read them out loud, even the old english ones. That had been fun and tricky. Stanley had no idea what he was saying half the time. He’d translate the clunky words into modern english and Stanley would laugh.  _ Well why didn’t they just say that to start with? _ He’d ask and Ford would be so fondly exasperated. 

Stanley didn’t reply and the silence seemed to stretch out as they plodded across the snow covered yard. He turned around to look at his brother, thinking what he said had been a mistake. The expression on his twin’s face stopped that thought cold in its track. There was something defensive and vulnerable in Stanley’s eyes that stole Ford’s breath.

He had  _ caused _ that. He, Ford, had made Stanley look that way. Stanley who would take whatever life threw at him with a laugh while flipping a bird; who would be called stupid and lazy and worthless by everyone but didn’t care (even though he really,  _ really _ did); Stanley, his brother and once best friend, was staring at him as though Ford was the one thing he was really scared of.

They were going to the woods where his brother had looked into the eyes of the Gremoblin. He’d been forced to literally see his worst nightmare and he was looking at Ford like he was the terrifying thing.

Ford had caused that. He’d broken his brother in a way no one else ever could have. Ford was the only person who Stanley trusted and relied on completely and he’d shattered his brother. He’d never been able to rely on their parents. No one could have but at least Pa was willing to put up with Ford for his precious ‘potential.’ Ford had always had a few teachers who believed in him. 

Stanley had robbed him of an opportunity. Ford had robbed his brother of _so_ _much_ more. 

How had he never seen it? What, for God’s sake, had caused him to see it now? He found his throat tight and couldn’t make any words come out. He swallowed (it did nothing to clear up the block) and looked forward again.

The snow got into his boots and soaked through his socks. The sun was blindingly bright and he was exhausted. He’d probably slept an hour last night. Maybe. He didn’t need emotional breakthroughs right now. Why had he followed Fiddleford’s advice? This could take hours and they weren’t even talking. He felt guilty and cold and -

“Did you eat?”

“What?” A stick of beef jerky was pressed into his hand. He looked down at it in confusion. He hadn’t eaten beef jerky since he was a teenager. They were irrevocable tied to his twin in his mind. 

“We can’t go hiking through the woods on an empty stomach. Don’t want to get tempted by their fairy food either.” Stanley shrugged and averted his eyes. He had his hands buried in his pockets and looked uncomfortable. 

“Correct.” He bit off a piece of the dried meat and tried not to think too hard about the sensations the taste of it gave him.

“Are all the creatures here so… strange?”

“Hmm?” He looked where his brother was indicating and saw a gnome duck behind a tree. “Ah. Yes, Gravity Falls attracts the strange and unusual. There are a few normal animals here but by and large everything is unique. Even if it’s as simple as being a polydactyl.” He held up his hand and wiggled his fingers. “Though I’ve seen a few animals with an extra limb. One squirrel even had two heads.”

“No shit?” Stanley huffed out a breath and raised his shoulders as the wind picked up. “This place was basically made for you.”

“Because I’m a polydactyl?” He couldn’t keep the irritation out of his tone even though he didn’t want to be irritated. Stanley had never teased or belittled him for his extra finger. He’d given him an affection nickname and tried to make him feel special instead of weird. He shouldn’t have darted towards that assumption.

Stanley rolled his eyes. “No Poindexter. Because you’ve always loved weird things. You got a summer job just so you could keep subscribing to Strange and Mysterious Planet.” He shook his head and tilted his head so Ford couldn’t see his face. He mumbled something Ford couldn’t hear. 

He’d forgotten about that magazine. It seemed like he had forgotten a lot of things. How did Stanley always remember it?

Darn it all, Fiddleford was right. He did need to talk. He wasn’t sure how to start tactfully. It didn’t matter. As far as he was aware there had never been a tactful Pines.

“We have to talk, haven’t we?”

Stanley’s form stiffened but he kept his pace matched to Ford’s. It was easier to maneuver around the trees than it probably should have been. He’d spent most of his early years in Gravity Falls exploring these forests. It was something he’d always wanted to do as a child. There were no forests in Glass Shard Beach.

“Don’t know. Talkin’s never done me much good.” They fell back into silence again and Ford realized it was going to be up to him. Stanley had already said his part back when the twins were putting up the unicorn barrier. Where did he start? 

Finally he broke the silence and asked the first question that came to mind. It seemed like the most important one. He tried to keep from sounding upset but his voice failed him. He could already feel the big emotions trying to break through. He wanted to push them down but they were rising up insistently.

“You never came back. I waited for you to come back. You never did.”

\----------------------------------

\- | S | T | A | N | -

\----------------------------------

Stanley made no outward reaction to the question. He doubted his brother could read his moods anymore. The answer was so obvious he felt stupid even answering it. Still, Ford was nothing if not dense. He often missed obvious things. At least things that were obvious to Stanley.

“I was told not to until I had a million dollars.” 

Ford frowned. It was the same expression he always got when someone’s emotions/actions didn’t make sense to him. Stan hated that it made a fond exasperation well up in his chest.

“Pa didn’t mean that. Surely he-”

Stan cut his twin off. “Like the twins said. He’d already packed the bag. I’ve always known pa wasn’t crazy about me, Ford.” He rolled his shoulder with phantom pain. Everybody who lived near them knew pa hadn’t liked him. He hadn’t liked much of anyone but he seemed to take special delight in beating Stan. Probably because Stan tried to intervene. It didn’t pay to be nobel. That shit only worked in fairy tales. In the real world intervention just got you beat up. Regardless, Ford had apparently forgotten their Pa’s brand of ‘tough love.’

“Where the hell did you go?” Ford eventually asked. “Shermie spent hours looking for you that night. He never did find you.”

“The Stan O’ War.” He replied with a slight shrug. It had been cold that night and he hadn’t had enough gas to keep the Stanley Mobile running. “I thought it would have been obvious. If there was any chance of making up I knew that’s where you’d look for me.” Guess he’d been wrong about that. He swallowed and looked out at the snowy expanse of trees in front of them. Ford’s posture was stiff beside him. “I didn’t know Shermie was looking for me.” 

What would have happened if his brother had found him? Nothing would have probably changed but damn, it would have been nice to know someone cared.

“I didn’t either until ma told me.” Ford laughed though there was no humor in the sound. “Well, until she yelled it at pa.”

Huh. Apparently his disappearance hadn’t been entirely silent. He’d been worried about that. It kind of felt like everyone in the house hated him. He’d never heard back from any of them. (Not that he’d made it easy for any of them to contact him.) It was nice to know that at least his older brother hadn’t hated him.

“Hate?”

“Huh?” He turned his gaze on his twin and realized Ford had stopped walking. He wasn’t sure how long they’d even been walking. 

“You said we hated you.” Ford supplied. He looked confused and conflicted and utterly unhappy. It made him think of a soggy and ruffled owl. “But, I… I’ve never  _ hated _ you.”

Stanley stopped as well and gapped at his brother. He hadn’t realized he’d spoken out loud but,  _ Moses, _ he did not know what to say to that. Ford didn’t hate him? Since when? How-what was he supposed to do with that? He’d spent a dozen years certain that his brother hated him. And yet here they were in the middle of the woods and Ford was saying that it wasn’t true. That it never had been.

He could tell that every emotion he felt was playing on his face. He hadn’t meant to show them.

“What?” His voice cracked partway through the word and left him feeling all the more vulnerable. Ford blinked at him. He was slightly hunched against the cold and looked scruffy. He needed a shave and a shower. He looked young and old. Some strange mixture of innocence and wariness. 

“I-I never. I couldn’t… How could I  _ hate  _ you?” Ford grabbed at his hair in frustration like he always did when he couldn’t express himself. 

“You haven’t exactly given me a reason to think otherwise.” Stan grumbled because he didn’t want to sound so damn confused and hurt.

Ford shook his head. “I- I didn’t want that to happen. I didn’t want you to get shot or stabbed or homeless. And now you’ve lost your kidney and you’re here and I can’t-” His voice got caught in his throat and he made a strangled sound that scared Stan.

“Hey, hey, woah.” He reached out and caught Ford’s upper arm. He pulled him near and tucked his twin’s head under his own. Ford didn’t like being restrained when he freaked out but he also liked to have something block some of his senses. “Stay with me here, buddy.” He wanted to say it was okay but he couldn’t make himself say the words. It wasn’t and it hadn’t been.

“You- all of you have to get out and get as far away as possible.” Ford spluttered into Stan’s sweater. “I- Bill! He’ll take over and he’ll hurt you! He’s already-and if you- I can’t let-”

“Damnit, Ford, would you just breathe for a second? We’re not leaving. I’m not leaving.” There was basically nothing that could make him do that at this point. He didn’t need to reconcile with Ford no matter how  _ much _ he wanted to. He needed his brother to be safe. He needed Mabel and Dipper to be safe. That was all. He’d be okay. Whatever happened he’d be okay if they were safe. He’d get his shit together and be in Shermie’s life and he’d meet Mabel and Dipper whenever they were born. He’d already decided it. His present and past sucked but his future could be so much better. He’d make it better.

“Bi-”

“No one gives a fuck about Bill. News flash, Poindexter, we’re all aware of the pointy jerk. Mabel told me about him ‘fore I even got here. Why do you think we came?”

Ford pushed away from Stan’s chest and wrapped his arms around himself. He turned away so Stan couldn’t see his face. 

“Why?”

Damn it. Ford was actually going to make him say it. Out here in the middle of the woods his brother was going to make him say it… And Stan didn’t want to. He  _ always _ had to be the one to bend. He was the younger brother. He shouldn’t always have to take responsibility! He had to be the strongest and the quickest and the toughest and, and-

His shoulders dropped. It’s what the alpha twin did. They took care of the other one, but... Sure, he’d fight but it was Ford who would dress his wounds. 

He could… he could dress this wound. 

He clenched his fist, swallowed, and looked at his brother. He tried to find the confidence he used to feel. Ford had always felt safe. If he could remember that then he could do this. He let his eyes slip closed and remembered a younger Ford. His brother with crooked glasses in that ridiculous bomber jacket. He’d be rubbing his arm where someone had hurt him and looking at Stan with wide trusting eyes. Stan would have done anything for that look. 

“Because I love you.” It was so easy to say that to the memory version of Ford. He’d loved his brother more than he’d ever loved himself. More than he’d ever loved anything. He still loved him, even if the love was covered with a lot of baggage.

Ford’s eyes turned back on him and grew wide. Stan hadn’t seen him look so shocked since they’d lowered the Bill bomb. 

“I-” Ford swayed and Stan’s heart lurched with fear. His brother’s eyes rolled backwards and he fell forward. Stan shot forward and caught him before he collided with the snowy ground. 

“Woah,” Stan calmed and straightened his brother. He ducked his head to catch Ford’s eyes with his own and found a pair of yellow tinted eyes looking back at him.

“Heya, Stanley!”

Stan recoiled and almost released Ford. 

“Bill,” He snarled and tightened his grip. 

“In the flesh,” He cackled and tilted his head backwards. “I’m afraid I can’t let you-”

Stan reared his hand back and clocked Ford hard across the jaw. The demon’s voice stuttered to a still and his yellow eyes widened. 

“Woah! You’d hit your-”

“Hell yeah.” Stan dropped a hand into his pocket and started to rifle through it. He wasn’t about to let him go. “I’ve been wanting to clock both of you for days.” He found the object he was looking for and pulled it out. The flashlight clicked on easily enough and a moment later Ford was the size of a GI Joe. He easily fit in one hand and he looked livid.

“Where did you get that?”

“Dipper has been on to your shit since the beginning.” He pushed himself up right and considered the small version of his brother. “Now I’m not a hundred percent sure where these fairies are but I’m going to continue on in the direction Ford had us going. Feel free to be quiet.”

\--------------------------

Bill, unsurprisingly, was not quiet. He rambled in a voice that was too high to be Ford’s for the entire journey. Stan didn’t listen to anything the jerk said. He was good at drowning out boring or annoying people. Stan was about to stuff a piece of cloth in his mouth when he  _ finally _ saw the fairy circle. 

“Thank God.” He declared and stepped across it.

Okay, the rules he’d read during his track across the forest. 1) Don’t eat or drink their food. 2) Don’t give your real or full name. 3) Don’t accept gifts/favors. 4) Don’t be rude. 5) Don’t say thank you or I’m sorry. 

The change was instantaneous. He was in a warm, grassy, tree, and flower covered area. Similar to the Unicorn’s grove. The air was much warmer and seemed to sparkle. There was a satyr and green woman dancing and what looked like fairies fluttering about.

Cool. Still not the strangest thing he’d seen. Gravity Falls was just morphing into one blur of strangeness at this point. 

“Hey,” he called out cheerfully. A bunch of the fairies flew towards him and the dancing pair stopped. “What’s up?”

“Who are you?” The green woman asked in a voice that was soft. It made him think of a tree for some reason. Like wind sifting through leaves. It even creaked a little. 

“A traveler.” He smiled and squeezed Ford when his mouth popped open. The possessed scientist wheezed and Stan shot him a warning look. “I seek moonstone.”

“Moonstone?” The green woman moved closer and the closer she got the younger she looked. She was gorgeous but not in a ‘hot’ way. More in an ethereal way. Someone you wanted to look at and paint even if you didn’t know how.

“Who is the small one?” The satyr asked in a much deeper voice than Stan expected from someone with goat legs. Bill started to wiggle so he shoved his thumb in his twin’s small mouth.

“A nerd.” 

“You come for moonstone?” The green girl asked again.

“Yes we do. We’re attempting to stop an evil… thing, from getting in our house. It’s the final ingredient.” He tried not to sound too gruff but Bill was wiggling around in his hand like wild. It was hard to keep him quiet.

“What sort of evil?”

“A dream demon?” Yeah, that’s what the others had called Bill. “He calls himself Bill Cipher and he’s from another world.”

“Cipher?” The green girl’s gaze darkened. Well look at that, Cipher got around.

“Yep.”

“We know him.” The satyr muttered darkly. “We have had encounters before.”

One of the fairies dancing around made a dinging sound like Tinkerbell from the Disney film he’d seen as a kid. 

“What?” The green girl turned her face to the fairy and tilted her head. Green hair woven with periwinkle and jasmine fell over her shoulders. They had a conversation that consisted of dinging sounds and the creak of wood. He understood none of it. Bill gave his finger a particularly painful bite and made him yelp. It drew the attention of everyone in the clearing. He tried to smile but it mostly looked angry. He always looked gruff and a little angry. 

“That Nerd, can we have his name?”

Have… the way that was worded sounded like a threat. He had to think like they were going to con him. 

“He has many. One you can have is Brainiac.” He knew it was always a bad thing to deny the fae anything and they rarely if ever let it go. Brainiac was something he used to use on Ford but didn’t really use anymore.

“And the one in him?” The green girl asked with a neutral gaze. 

“Moonstone would really help us with him.” He reiterated as politely as he could. 

“And what will you give us for it?” The satyr inquired. 

Stan smiled and strode forward. It was his time to shine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Ford never gets the chance to finish his thoughts without Bill butting in. Hmm... I wonder what's going on at the Shack now that they got the Original Pine Twins out?
> 
> Last chapter was Home by Philip Philip


	14. You're the Northern Wind (Sending shivers down my spine)

Dipper dropped a box on top of the dining room table and passed Fiddleford the hard drive he’d requested. The inventor picked it up and set about unscrewing the panels. Mabel was working on a sweater for one of the adults. She’d finished up Dipper’s new sweater the previous night. It was made with the same blue as his hat and had the big dipper across the center. Instead of stars she’d used the symbols from the zodiac. Stan and Ford had left in the early hours of the morning and it was getting late now. He was a little worried they wouldn’t be back tonight. One of the journals had mentioned that time traveled differently in the Feywild so… who knew.

Fiddleford was the first to break the silence. “So, why did you two first come to Gravity Falls?”

The twins stared at each other with a frown. Mabel was the first to shrug. 

“We wanted to stop Bill. In the future… Well, he got what he wanted out of the portal and it cost us a lot. Great Uncle Ford was tortured and Grunkle Stan…” her voice trailed off and she gave Dipper a wide eyed look.

Huh. That was a good point. 

“Grunkle Stan had to sacrifice his mind.” He’d avoid talking about the memory gun for as long as he could. He didn’t want to heap that onto Fiddleford’s already packed plate. The inventor already struggled with guilt and fear.

“What?” Fiddleford’s mouth popped open. 

“They pulled a trick on Bill. It wasn’t easy. It almost cost us the entire town. Anyway, we want to make sure that doesn’t happen. 

“Well. I knew most of that - not that Ford and Stan were so hurt, though I’d guessed that much- but that wasn’t actually what I was asking about.” He set the now disassembled hard drive down and separated the pieces into several piles. He took up the next harddrive and began to disassemble it. 

“What were you talking about?” Dipper asked. Mabel was busy applying glitter paint to her yarn. 

“Why did you come to Gravity Falls to spend the summer? Did you know about it’s quirks?”

“Nope. I don’t think our parents would have let us come if they had known.” Dipper mused. Mabel picked her needles back up and continued her quick knitting. 

“They wanted us to get fresh air and do some work. Grunkle Stan offered us free lodging if we worked in the shack.” Her fingers flew over the yarn in a mesmerizing pattern. He’d always found it fascinating to watch. She didn’t have to look at what her fingers were doing. They just did it. She’d come such a long way from when she’d first started learning. He still had the janky scarf she’d made. It was the first thing she’d ever made and she’d given it to him. 

He squished his shoulders up so his cheeks and ears were snuggled into the sweater she’d given him. It was warm and comforting. It helped to battle against the cold of the house. 

He’d gotten rid of all the Bill’s he could find but a lot of the triangles were part of the actual house. They couldn’t really get rid of them without painting over the walls and carpet and replacing a lot of windows. He knew that Bill could watch them through anything that bore his likeness so he’d tried really hard to get rid of everything. They’d stopped hanging out in the really Bill heavy rooms. 

He really hoped Bill couldn’t hear them through the triangles as well. He didn’t like the idea of the demon knowing what they were plotting.

“Mom thought it was the perfect way to help us connect with nature and find ourselves.” Mabel continued chattering happily. “We had a great time - minus the Bill stuff.”

“Minus the Bill stuff, of course.” Fiddleford agreed. He deposited the Hard drive parts into his growing piles. “Gravity Falls is a truly fascinating place. I could have really liked it here if it weren’t for a few of the nastier elements.”

Dipper tugged open his Journal - the one Mabel had given him with a pine tree on the cover - and flipped to the furthest page he’d filled out. It was about the Gobblewonker. He’d added extra details he’d learned from their experiences - including the creatures fascination with the Jammin Salmon song. He was working on a sketch of it now. It wouldn’t be as good as Ford’s, of course, but he was proud of it so far.

“Should we be worrying about Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford?” The clicking of Mabel’s needles stilled as she asked the question. 

Fiddleford snorted and tossed a bit of plastic into his trash pile. “I kinda reckon we should always be worried about them. They seem ta draw trouble.” 

Mabel laughed gleefully. Her needles clicked faster which meant she was excited. “You made a giant sea monster robot.” Dipper glanced up to see a smile taking over most of her face. “Gravity Falls is fantastic. This has been the best summer ever.”

Dipper dropped his gaze back to his sketch and added a little shading around the eyes. There wasn’t any way to capture the madness in the Gremoblin’s gaze but… it wasn’t bad looking. It was probably his best. Not quite at the level of Mabel’s best sketches but it was definitely better than what he’d done at the start of the summer.

There was the sound of someone sharply inhaling that made him look up. Fiddleford’s eyes were wide and locked on the sketch. Panic was obvious on every inch of his face. His grip on the partially disassembled hard drive was loose and the screwdriver sat forgotten in his other hand. He looked terrified.

“Fiddsy?” Mabel inquired gently. Her sparkle covered hand reached out for his sleeve but the scientist didn’t notice. He was staring at Dipper’s sketch and losing all the color in his face.

Dipper snapped the journal shut. Fiddleford sucked in a breath but didn’t move his gaze. Mabel caught hold of his sleeve and gave it a little tug. 

“I thought you said he erased those memories, Dip-Dop.”

“Erased?” Fiddleford mumbled. It was obvious he was remembering whatever he’d seen in the creature’s eyes. Way to go, Dipper. Why didn’t he draw a sketch of something that wasn’t horrible? Something like a gnome. No, he had to go and draw a creature that showed nightmares. He’d already driven two people insane by the Gobblewonker. Good God, what was wrong with him?

Mabel moved her grip to Fiddleford’s hand instead of his sleeve. “Yeah. I only got caught in the Gremoblin’s gaze for a few seconds and it messed with me for a week.” She kicked Dipper under the table and gave him a pointed look. He knew that expression.  _ Stop blaming yourself. _

“You- _ you _ looked in its eyes?” Fiddleford’s mouth dropped open and he somehow grew even paler. 

Mabel gave an emphatic nod. “We accidentally set one lose in the Mystery Shack and it kind of destroyed everything before breaking a wall down.” She shrugged. “It was mostly my fault but I still won the bet.” She nodded towards Dipper and pointed the knitting needle she was holding in her other hand. “Dip-Dop managed to catch it and cage it without ever looking in its eyes.”

Dipper tapped the cover of his journal as an idea came to him. “You know,” he mused out loud, “I bet you could invent a pair of glasses that would block his nightmare vision.” 

Fiddleford’s eyes widened dramatically. 

“We need hot chocolate!” Mabel declared. She bounded out of her chair and across the kitchen. “Chocolate always makes things better!” 

Fiddleford chuckled. While it didn’t sound sincere he looked less fragile now. “It does at that.”

Mabel busied herself with the hot chocolate and Dipper didn’t miss the way her hand trembled slightly as she poured the powder in the mugs. Had he ever asked her what the nightmare she saw was? That was the trouble with Mabel. She always acted cheerful. It was hard to tell when she was aching because she rarely gave anything away. She’d pout and complain but never when she was in actual pain and worry. Especially if it was something that wasn’t a communication problem. She’d been quiet about how much it hurt her to see him get so close with Great Uncle Ford until it commulated in them yelling at each other about what a great/terrible opportunity his internship would provide.

Great. Now he felt guilty. He was the only one who didn’t have Gremoblin nightmares. How messed up was that? 

“It’s really dark out.” Fiddleford frowned as he spoke. He drew the attention of the twins to the window. And, yeah, it was really dark. “Do you think they’ll be out all night? Have you had any dealings with the fae?”

“Not outside of a few fairies.” He didn’t mention that both the fairies they’d met had been squashed. He’d seen the one Soos squashed fly away afterwards so it probably didn’t do any permanent damage. 

“I guess we should prepare for it to just be us tonight then.” 

Mabel poured the water she’d microwaved into the mugs. “I demand a slumber party in the-” She stopped abruptly as the phone rang. Everyone of them jumped in surprise at the too loud ringing. 

Mabel recovered quickest and picked the phone up. “Hello!” She called cheerfully. “This is Mabel Pi-an speaking.” She tilted her head as she listened to whatever the other person said. Her eyes got wide and shot to Fiddleford. She smiled in a way that was not convincing. “Sure. He’s right here.” She put her hand over the mouthpiece and looked at FIddleford. “Uh, it’s for you.”

Fiddleford got up and took the phone. He brought it to his ear and his eyes got wide. 

“Tate? Tater tot? Is that you?” He slumped against the counter and the hand not holding the phone went to grasp his chest. There was a huge smile on his face the likes of which Dipper had never seen on the inventor. “How are you doin’?”

He nodded his head as he listened and his body seemed to relax. Mabel still looked distinctly alarmed. Dipper couldn’t understand why and felt like he was missing something. Especially when Fiddleford suddenly went rigid and his color drained again. 

“You-you’re where right now? Tater tot, could you put your ma on the phone?” There was a brief pause and then, “Hun? Tate just said you were at a gas station in  _ Gravity Falls. _ ”

Mabel shared a horrified look with Dipper. 

Fiddleford swayed where he was standing. “Stanford said what?” He listened for a moment. “Oh. I see. That was day before yesterday you say? Mmhmm.”

Something in his face shifted and he suddenly looked intense and hard. Dipper had caught a glimpse of that expression during Weirdmeggedon. It had only been for a moment and it was right before they’d started the Shacktron. They’d caught a glimpse of Tate as a golden statue before Shandra had been turned to stone.

There was command in Fiddleford’s tone when he spoke again. “Hun, listen to me. You need to get in your car and drive directly here. Do not stop and do not talk to  _ anyone _ that isn’t me. If anyone tries to stop you use force. You’ve still got that bat in the car, right? Use it and don’t hesitate.” He listened to whatever she said. “I’m sorry but you actually need to be scared right now. This town is  _ not _ safe right now. There is something horrible going on I can’t let you two get hurt.” His knuckles were white against the counter. “I know you’re capable, sugar, but there’s more going on here than just some nut job. Hurry here and I swear I’ll explain everything.” He nodded to whatever she said. “Alright. I love you both. Please, please hurry.”

He hung the phone up slowly and sank on top of the counter. His entire body seemed to crumple as his head dropped into shaking hands.

“Oh  _ God. _ ”

“Um, what happened?” Dipper couldn’t keep his voice from breaking.

Mabel gave him an unimpressed look. “They’re here, Dipping sauce. His wife and Tate.”

Yeah, he got that part. Why were they here?

“That  _ bastard. _ ” Dipper had never heard Fiddleford put so much venom in his voice and he’d never heard him use an actual curse. The scientist shoved himself upright and Dipper’s breath caught in his throat. Fiddleford looked livid. He had never associated the soft spoken inventor with anger or wrath.

His voice was shaking with rage. “That demon told them I needed them! They were safe in California and he-” Fiddleford pounded his fist on the table. He straightened and glowered at the window opposite of them. It had a stain glass insert of a one eyed triangle. Dipper half thought the inventor was going to break the glass. “I know you’re there, Bill.” He snarled. “Hear me now. I am going to destroy you for this. I was content to just break your ability to come to our world, but now?” He walked around the counter and Dipper felt a surge of something like fear in his gut, “I will make you burn. Returning to hell would be a relief when I’m finished.”

He turned his back on the window and exhaled slowly. His hands were clenched at his side and his body radiated anger.

“Mabel, honey, could you fetch me a blanket?” Mabel nodded cheerfully and darted out of the room. “Dipper, do you still have duct tape?” DIpper blinked and then sprang up. He grabbed his back pack and pulled a roll of tape from his pocket. He brought it to Fiddleford who took it with a smile. “Thanks.” 

Mabel came back with an ugly orange blanket and passed it to the inventor. He took it to the window and taped it over the glass. 

“Alright.” He turned towards the twins and crouched in front of them. “My wife and kid will be here in a few minutes. Mabel, can you make two more cups of hot chocolate? Dipper, do you have anything cool you could show Tate so we can keep him occupied for a few minutes while I try and explain this mess to my wife?”

He nodded his head. He could think of something to entertain a six year old. Maybe the Dinosaur skull? Or the skeleton?

“Great. We’ll need to keep our eyes on the front so we know when they get here.” He seemed irritated. “Too bad we don’t have any practical weapons. All the weird things Ford collected aren’t very practical for now.” He poked the skeleton model with a frown. 

They split up to get everything ready. Dipper cleared an area in the sitting room and turned on a few more lights. 

Fiddleford shot to the door before his wife even stopped her car. He dashed down the steps while the twins went to stand in the doorway uncertainly. Fiddleford reached the car as Mrs. McGucket opened the door. He wrapped his arms around her for a tight hug before he was tugging the back door open. He got his hand around both his wife and child and led them towards the front door with several suspicious looks around. He rushed them inside. Dipper shut and locked the door the moment they were inside. 

Mabel was chewing her bottom lip and staring out at the woods. She probably wanted to go looking for Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford. He kind of wanted to as well.

“Emma-May, this is Dipper and Mabel Pan.” Fiddleford introduced them a little impatiently. They’d agreed on the fake name for now. They didn’t want anyone getting too familiar with them that didn’t already know.

“How do you do?” Emma-May asked politely as she shook both their hands. She had warm, calloused hands and a friendly face. Her hair was a pretty auburn and had been pulled back from her face in a braid. She had on jeans and snow boots which made her the most suited to the weather at the moment.

“They’re cousins of Stanford.” Fiddleford offered as they all shook hands. Tate had his arm wrapped around Fiddleford’s leg and was staring at all the odd things Ford had collected with wide eyes. It made Dipper smile. He’d have an easy time distracting him. 

Fiddleford dropped his own hand on top of Tate’s head and ruffled his sandy hair. “Tater-Tot, would you like to get a tour from Dipper here? He knows all sorts of cool things in the house.”

“Okay.” The six year old reached out for Dipper’s hand. Dipper took it and led him towards the study. He’d start with the dinosaur skull.

\---------------------------------

-| M | A | B |E | L | -

\---------------------------------

This was turning into a far more interesting evening. She’d spent all day stressed out about her missing Great Uncles but now there was something else to do. 

She focused on fixing the hot chocolates while Dipper took Tate to the other room. Fiddleford led Emma-May into the kitchen. Mrs. McGucket was adorable. She had freckles and green eyes and a smile that was almost too big for her face. Her face was tanned and she had the look of someone who had spent a lot of time doing outdoor work. 

She had as much of an accent as Fiddleford and Mabel instantly loved it. It was going to be so fantastic to have another girl around. She loved everyone in this house but man, did she miss having other women. Wendy... Grenda... Candy… Goodness, she’d even take Pacifica. She just wanted a girl. Preferably one that was okay talking about feelings. 

(She  _ really _ missed Wendy. It was impossible not to feel safe when the fiery red head was around. She’d be the first to punch Bill in the eye. Even Grenda would be eager to hit him with a sofa.)

“Alright, Fiddsy, what’s going on.” Emma-May was not one to waste time, apparently. She grabbed her husband’s hand and dragged him closer. They were talking in the kitchen because it was the room that had always had the least amount of Bill taint. It was also furthest from all the other Bill windows. 

“I’m not gonna lie, Emma, it’s bad.” He risked a glance at Mabel who promptly pretended that she was interested in their dinner dishes. “Ford wasn’t honest with what he was researching.”

“The portal thingy?”

“Yes. I’m just gonna give it to you straight, you’ll think I’m crazy but I swear it’s all true.”

Emma tilted her head and propped her free hand on her hip. “I’m listening.”

“Ford unwittingly summoned a demon. He made a deal with it to create a portal that would let it into our world. It can take over Ford’s body at any time. It’s cruel and likes to trick people. He tries to make deals with people to get what he wants. He treats people like puppets.”

Mabel was impressed. He’d managed to explain that in a handful of sentences. She hadn’t thought he’d be able to. It had taken her at least fifteen minutes to explain it all to Grunkle Stan. 

“A demon?”

Fiddleford nodded his head. He straightened his glasses and frowned. “I’m going to be honest, I know it sounds insane. I’ve seen the thing, Em. I’ve seen it possess Ford.”

“Possess? Like the exorcist?” Mabel didn’t have to see her face to know that she was giving her husband a disbelieving look. Not that Mabel blamed her. It was a big pill of crazy to have to swallow. They’d all had the advantage of seeing weird things before they saw Bill. It had to be weird to have him be the first super natural thing you saw.

“I know, Em. It sounds insane. I swear it’s all true. Can I prove it to you somehow?”

“Can you, Fiddleford?”

Mabel stirred the hot chocolates and tried to think of something that would prove all this. She didn’t really have anything magical on her. Dipper might. Maybe they could trap a gnome.

Fiddleford exhaled noisily. “I… Probably can’t tonight. I can show you the portal. It’s fairly fantastical so it might convince you.”

“I can tell you believe it.” Emma took his other hand and pulled him closer. “I know you’ve been worried about something for the last few months. Stanford was supposed to be studying the unusual and supernatural, wasn’t he?” She sighed and glanced at Mabel. Mabel put on her best smile and didn’t bother pretending like she wasn’t listening. 

“Alright,” She finally said. “Let’s see what you got down in that basement of yours.” 

Fiddleford brightened. “I’ll get Tate and Dipper as well. If we’re going downstairs I’d rather have everyone together.” He smiled at Mabel. “Honey, do you mind getting your brother?”

“Nope. I don’t mind at all.” She bounced out of the kitchen and pretended she didn’t see them kissing. It just made her all the more determined to make sure that they beat Bill. Her Fiddleford was doing so much better but darn it, she wasn’t going to let this one lose his wife and kid if she could stop it. 

She found Dip-Dop and Tate going through Great Uncle Ford’s fossil collection. She got him to follow her and they started towards the elevator to the basement. Fiddleford and Emma-May met them and they all rode awkwardly down. 

She hadn’t really come down here. Not in this time or the future. She had basically avoided it after the ‘Grunkle Stan, I trust you,’ moment. She didn’t like spending time down there because it made her think of that moment. 

She’d come  _ so _ close to pressing that button. She’d almost left her Great Uncle trapped in the multiverse. Grunkle Stan would have been arrested and they would have never known.

It made her stomach hurt and her eyes water to just think about it. 

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open to reveal the basement. They walked out into the control room and Mabel had to repress a shudder. This room just reeked mad scientist. The air buzzed unnaturally and even in the seperate room you could see the portal looming ominously in the other room. Her first time here she’d been too distracted by everything to notice the obvious. The portal was a giant triangle with a single hole in the center. It was basically a giant, upside down Bill. It was glowing with power but it wasn’t as bright as it had been that night. She wasn’t certain it was all the way on.

She didn’t realize she’d stopped moving until she felt Dipper’s hand grasp her own. She looked over to her brother and shared a nervous smile with him. His eyes were wide with worry but his smile was sincere. He was here with her. They could do this together.

It didn’t occur to her until much, much later, that the portal was basically a large Bill which meant, he could watch them through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And most of the gang is now here. I can't promise there won't be more character's pop up. My muse is a whilly thing that doesn't listen to me.
> 
> Also, I _adore_ this song.


	15. To Be Stronger Now (My Only Wish)

Stan swept his arm dramatically to indicate the space behind him and put on his best salesman smile. Stan Co may have made shitty merchandise but he was  _ good _ at selling his shit. His tag line was “It really sucks!” For crying out loud.

Bill/Ford, or Bord as Stan was now going to call him, was gnawing frantically on his thumb. It was a constant irritant that just focused him. 

Step one of a con was setting up. He didn’t have much of anything with him so he’d have to wing it. Step two was getting on friendly terms. Good news, Bill was an asshole and everyone disliked him. Uniting against someone no one liked was a quick way to make friends. He’d have a laugh at that when they finally got rid of Bill. He might even have a drink in honor of these fae. 

Step three? That was where everything could fail or succeed. It was time to tell his tale. 

“Alright, I don’t got a lot of value.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small handful of candy. Fae creatures supposedly  _ loved _ honey but he didn’t have any of that. What he did have was some Bit O’ Honey. Ford loved the shitty candy and had a (stale) stash of it in the house. It hadn’t taken Stan more than ten minutes to find it. “But I do have these.” He displayed the candy to the green girl. She seemed more on board with helping than the satyr and the fairy was just jingling. 

“Sustenance?” 

“Honey candy.”

She inclined a thin eyebrow that was a lighter green. “You would trade us food for stone?”

He shrugged a shoulder. Never commit. That was part of the art of con. The mark committed to you. “You got somethin’ else in mind?”

Bill gave a particularly hard bite and Stan had to restrain from squeezing the possessed tiny Ford. He was not in the mood for any of this shit. He wanted to wrap his gruffness back around him like a cloak. He couldn’t believe he’d confessed why he’d come earlier. Like an idiot. In the middle of the woods for crying out loud. Moses, his brother was a sobbing mess and that was all it took to break Stanley Filibrick (now Mystery) Pines. He was pathetic. Not that that was a surprise. He had driven across the country with a thirteen year old because she’d called him family.

(She’d grabbed his hand, thrown glitter and paint, and stared at him with brown eyes that were both familiar and new. He’d follow her laughing self off a cliff. She was addictive in a way he’d forgotten family and a cause could be.)

He shoved all his errant thoughts away and barricaded the mental door. Now was the time to perform. 

“You could give us your name?” She tilted her head and regarded him. “Or the small one you hold.”

“That is  _ so _ tempting, but I need this guy to give Bill the boot. I could give you my name, but that seems a little pricey for a rock. Tell you what, how’s about a wager, hmm?”

“Wager?” The satyr asked suspiciously. Stan allowed his smile to soften.

“Wager. We’ll leave it to chance. If chance favors me you get the candy and I get the stone. If chance favors you, you get the name and I get the stone. Either way we both get something.”

“What will the wager be?” The green chick asked with what could be described as a smile if it wasn’t so foreign.

“All I got is a deck of cards.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his dog eared deck. It was a little difficult with only one hand but he wasn’t about to let Bord loose.

“What do we do?” She stepped closer and the grass around her legs seemed to grow taller. Stan put that fact in the ‘weird shit in Gravity Falls’ box in his mind and tilted his deck towards her.

“Pick out three cards for me.” The green girl eyed him suspiciously as her hand hovered over the cards. “Don’t worry. We won’t wager anything yet. I want to make sure you know how it works before risk is involved.”

That settled the green girl and she grabbed out three cards (queen of hearts, three of clubs, and seven of diamonds) and peered at them. Stan shoved the rest of the deck back in his pocket. He took the cards from her and flipped them over.

“Alright, so here’s the game. Your goal is to find the queen.” He pointed to himself, “my job is to hide her.”

“Hide her?” 

He shuffled the cards quickly and fanned them towards her. Her eyes widened as she realized what was going on. “Ah! I see.”

“Yep.” She drew the seven of diamonds and he felt himself smiling. This was going to work.

“Grimfek,” the green girl called over her shoulder. The satyr perked up at what was probably his name, “fetch five moonstones.”

They only needed two stones so score. He had a feeling extras wouldn’t be a bad thing. Not with the bad luck they’d been having.

“So, understand the basics?” He smiled at her and tried to look trustworthy. Bord clawed and chewed his finger and Stan really just couldn’t take that any more. He held up a finger as an indication of needing a moment to the green girl. 

“Okay, that’s it.” He reached across his body and pulled his keys and wallet out of his pocket. He shoved them in the opposite pocket and then stuffed tiny Ford into his pocket. He zipped it up before the little demon could get loose and smirked when he heard the muffled, unintelligible cursing that Bord immediately started. “That’s better,” he sighed and turned his attention back on the green girl. She was looking at him with something like confusion.

“He looks like you.”

Stan shrugged. “We’re twins. He’s just a little on the small side.” There was a really bizarre feeling of tiny fists pounding against his stomach. Moses, he wanted his brother back. He’d take Ford’s stubborn shouts over Bill any day.

The green girl was still staring at him with confusion. Stan forced his smile to relax. “My brother just isn’t himself, currently.” He explained.

The green girl raised her eyebrow again. “The game seems simple enough.”

And that meant he had her on the hook. Perfect. Now it was time to start the actual con.

He knelt down in the grass and patted the grass there down. It was soft and sun warm. It was such a strange comparison to the cold, hard, snow on the other side of this circle. 

The green girl knelt beside him gracefully and the grass seemed to grow more vibrant around her. What  _ was  _ she?

“Ready?”

She tilted her head. “Begin the game.”

He won the first round quickly and easily. She looked mildly surprised that the card she thought should be was not. He let her win the next one so she didn’t get suspicious and think she’d been had. He had plenty of names to give.

“Stetson.” He offered with a grin. She nodded and said it slowly. It made a shiver run down his back. Urgh. What could she do with his real name? The stakes suddenly seemed a lot higher.

He won the next two rounds before giving her another win. He gave her Andrew for that one. The satyr  _ finally _ reappeared with the stones and Stan took them gratefully. 

“Stetson, Andrew, Traveler… We gift you the last two stones so that you may defeat the demon Bill. We have long fought him.” She motioned for the Satyr to step back. “Take it with our blessing. Know that in exchange for such gifts you can  _ never _ again use those names. Bill cannot be reasoned with. Defeating him will cost you a tremendous sacrifice.

Stan shrugged and pocketed the moonstone. “Yeah, you’re not the first to tell me something like that.” His mind went to the weird fortune teller. The girl that Mabel had called the Handwitch.

_ You are destined to burn, Stanley Pines _ .

How had she known his name? Had he caught that at the time? He couldn’t remember. He couldn’t remember anything but the fear.

He knew somewhere in the distant future that there was a version of himself that had gotten banged up badly. Mabel and Dipper had come back to 1982 because of something that happened to both him and his twin. 

Could that be the version of himself (it was so weird to think there were versions of himself) that burned?

It didn’t matter right now. He gave his head a polite dip and turned to exit the circle of mushrooms. He stepped over the ring and the warm clearing was instantly gone. It was now night time and  _ cold. _

Great. He’d forgotten that part of the fairy tales. Time didn’t run the same in both worlds. Moses, hopefully it had only been a few hours.

He walked for about ten minutes before he remembered that Ford was stuffed in his pocket. He freed his twin and brought him nearish his face. 

“What happened, Stanley?” It sounded like his brother but he wasn’t certain. The eyes were too small to tell if they were yellow or not. 

“Are you yourself?” He wasn’t sure why he bothered asking. It wasn’t like he expected Bill to answer honestly or anything.

“Yes. I’m not sure why he chose that moment to take over. Did you use Dipper’s flashlight on me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Ford shrugged a tiny shoulder and crossed his arms over his chest. “Could you make me a little bigger?”

What the hell. Why not? 

He set his twin down in the snow and got a careful grip on just his arm. He pulled the flashlight out and shined it on his brother just long enough so he was a little shorter than Dipper. He secured his grip on his twin’s arm and peered into his brown eyes. They didn’t look yellow. Just the familiar brown. Tired and bloodshot. 

“Okay, seems like you’re you again.” 

Ford nodded. “I’m fine with this size. It’ll be easier for you to restrain me if  _ he _ takes over again.” It was impressive how much venom his twin could shove into a single syllable.

Stan couldn’t argue with that. He straightened up and slipped his hand down Ford’s arm until he had him by the hand. He’d be able to control him pretty well like this. 

The smaller hand was calloused heavily and he could feel a few unfamiliar scars across the back of it. He bit his lip to keep from asking the obvious questions. 

It was at that moment his traitorous mind decided to remind him of where he had left off with his brother. He, like an idiot, had just told him he loved him. Apparently that had shocked and/or repulsed his twin so much that he had gotten taken over by Bill. With the way Stan’s week had been going it was obvious the latter. Well he wouldn’t hear anything from Stan about it. He was fine with forgetting everything. They had the stupid moonstone so they could complete the stupid barrier. Ford would be able to sleep and they could break the portal thing apart. 

(Then Mabel and Dipper would leave and Stan would go back to… nope. Not thinking about it.)

“Lets hurry back with this shit. I don’t want those kids alone longer than they have to be.”

“I’m sure Fiddleford is capable of watching two teenagers for a few hours.” Ford huffed in response. 

“Fiddleford’s fine. He’s responsible and not what I’m talkin’ bout. If you’re you again then that means Bill might be somewhere else and I took the only flashlight.” He glared at his brother and quickened his pace. 

“Oh.” Was the only response Ford made. 

\---------

That feeling Stan had first gotten when he was outside his brother’s house had returned with a vengeance. It struck him dumb for a moment as he stood beside the Stanley Mobile and stared at the strange car. His hand was clenched around Ford’s and his breath was aching in his cold chest.

The front door to the Shack was open. The window to the sitting room was blocked by a blanket. There were numerous tracks through the snow leading to the front door.

“Mabel?” His voice was hoarse as he called her name. There was almost no volume. “Dipper?”

“Resize me!” Ford snapped. His brown eyes peered up at Stan desperately. Every instinct in his body was telling him to grab his brother and get the hell out of this place. Get in the car and leave this hell hole of a house. 

But he could not-would not- abandon the kids. Stan Pines protected his family. Not to mention he couldn’t just leave Fiddleford like that. The man had put his neck on the line for all of them. 

He pulled the flashlight out of his pocket and returned his twin to his proper size. He’d have to hope his brother wouldn’t attack him. Hopefully he could stay in control until after this was done. 

Ford sucked in a startled breath and gave his head a little shake. “That is a truly bizarre feeling.” He knelt down and picked up a hefty stick. “Ready yourself. There’s no telling what Bill’s done.” Ford dashed into the house and Stan followed hot on his heels. His heart was pounding in his ears and he could taste his own panic.

“Fiddleford!” His twin’s voice shouted into the room. Stan ignored him and followed the damp footprints towards the back room. He motioned for his twin to follow him silently. Ford noticed the footprints and sidled up behind Stan. 

“They’re likely in the basement.”

“The portal?”

Ford nodded grimly. “It’s likely. Whatever happens, do  _ not _ get near the gate.”

Stan nodded and went to the bookshelf that was not flat against the wall. It was on some kind of hinge and there was a secret elevator behind it. Ford punched in a floor number and the door slid shut.

It was quite probably the longest elevator ride of his life. His brother was vibrating with tension beside him and his own heart was hammering hard enough that he felt nauseous. 

The doors slid open and they were in a control room of some kind. There was surveillance equipment in front of him, some sort of computers, and a lot of wires. He didn’t know what any of it did but the tv caught his attention. It was displaying an image of the other room and there were three bodies he cared about on it, as well as three he didn’t know.

“Oh god, it’s Tate and Emma-May.”

That was probably the broad and new kid. The scrawny, bald, teenager Stan didn’t recognize either. 

He went towards the door with Ford following him. He yanked the door open and almost vomited when he stepped into the room. The air was charged and made everyone of his hairs stand on end. It was dense with another presence as well. He didn’t need multiple guesses. It had to be Bill.

Mabel, Dipper, Fiddleford, Tate, and Emma-May were standing in the middle of a circle on the ground with their hands in the air. The giant upside down triangle was glowing and crackled as they entered. 

The sixth figure was holding something in his hands and aiming it at the others. Stan couldn’t get a proper view but he was damn certain it was a gun.

“Grunkle Stan, get out!” Mabel yelped. Dipper shot them worried looks as the man turned his head. Stan met his eyes and was instantly struck with a memory of a summer day. The teenager looked just like one of the freak show members that had helped them find the Jersey Devil. He had tattoos all across his head, bulging eyes, and a decidedly crazy expression. Stan had seen that expression a few too many times in his life. The man was strung out on something.

“You!” He snarled. “They promised the voices would stop but they didn’t! You lied to me!”

“I’ve never met you before, buddy.” Stan promised in as friendly a tone as he could manage. Ford had snuck around to the right before the man had looked their way. If they were lucky this teen hadn’t seen him.

“Liar!” He shrieked. “The carnival! You promised it would stop! That I could forget!”

“You can still forget,” Stan lied smoothly. “This doesn’t have to be it.” He took a small step forward with both his hands still raised. Fiddleford lowered his left hand and got his fingers around Tate’s arm. The teen didn’t notice the movement. 

“No,” the teen gasped and brought his free hand to his head. “They’ll never stop!” 

“They can’t control you. You’re stronger than the voices.” He was pretty sure that was what the cop had said to the strung out girl during the robbery gone wrong. It had been a blur of gunfire and screaming. 

“Grunkle Stan,” Dipper started. Fiddleford jerked Tate behind himself and Emma-May moved next to him so they were both completely blocking their son from view. “Watch out for-”

There was a loud crackling sound and the lights over head grew suddenly bright. There was a crash behind him followed by a shriek of pain. Stan wanted to look but he couldn’t take his eyes off the kid with the gun.

“No!” Mabel and Dipper shrieked together. The teen spun to face them. Stan jumped towards him only to be jerked back by a strong arm. 

“Uh-uh, Stanley!” Crazed yellow eyes stared at him from his twin’s face. “No more interfering.” Bill shoved him back as Mabel screeched. His foot got caught on some sort of cable and he tripped back a few feet before he righted himself. He brought his hands up in a fighter’s stance and whirled to face his possessed twin. He had unintentionally maneuvered himself closer to the portal. He could feel it radiating heat at his back.

Without any real warning or reason, Stan was suddenly floating in the air along with everyone else. Mabel screamed and Stan’s head twitched towards her before he could stop himself.

Gravity just… stopped working. It was like being suspended in water. You didn’t feel your weight and you weren’t attached to anything. While it was a comforting feeling in water it was terrifying when you had just been standing on dirt. He couldn’t move properly and he was helpless.

Bill cackled and kicked off a lever thing. His body shot towards the glowing portal. Stan knew very little about what all this was but he knew one thing for certain. Bill wanted his brother to go through that portal which meant it was not a good thing. He’d be damned if he let that happen.

Instinct took over for Stanley like it always did when a loved one was in danger. He dove after his brother and knocked him to the ground. Ford fell face first into the dirt and cackled again as Stanley’s body kept diving forward. He didn’t land next to Ford or even on Ford. He just collided with his brother and kept right on flying at a slightly different angle all the faster. The portal got hold of him and he felt his body being tugged towards the vibrant light. 

He screamed without shame as the purple, blue, and green light began to flicker faster. He could see something moving on the other side. Something he couldn’t understand. Some Eldritch Horror that shouldn’t exist.

There was nothing to grab hold of. Nothing to stop himself from flying into the glowing light and being consumed by whatever that monstrosity was.

\-----------------------------------   
-| M | A | B | E | L |-   
\-----------------------------------

Larry was coming towards them with a memory gun. It wasn’t that dangerous of a thing in it but he’d typed “Myself” in the erase box. Whoever got hit with it would become little more than a vegetable. Not to mention it looked like it had been modified. There was no telling what the nut had done.

She no longer felt even slightly guilty for making future Larry believe his name was Toot Toot Mcbumbersnazzle.

He’d caught them unawares and made Fiddleford turn everything on. They were supposed to be protected but…

They’d been used as bait. Grunkle Stan was trying to distract them but it wasn’t working. Larry was crazy. Something had gone horribly wrong. Like spaced out on Smile Dip wrong.

Bill’s cackle drew her attention to the center of the room as she started to rise upward. Fiddleford was floating upwards and frantically trying to keep Tate behind himself. Emma screeched in shock as Dipper flailed. Bill was barreling towards the portal. Her heart leapt to her throat as she watched him move only for her to choke when Stan collided with him. Her Grunkle rammed into his possessed brother and knocked him down and away from the portal. Unfortunately the same move sent him hurtling towards the portal himself.

No! It couldn’t happen like this! They couldn’t save Great Uncle Ford only to lose Grunkle Stan to it. They were too far away to grab him. Too far to do… anything…

Mabel reached into her secret pocket and pulled her prized souvenir free. She aimed for her Grunkle and pulled the trigger as she shouted at the top of her lungs.

“GRAPPLING HOOK!”

The hook shot right in front of her Grunkle and passed him. It floated in mid air and Stan caught the end with his right hand as he entered the portal. 

Her entire body jerked forward and towards the portal. She cried out the only word she could manage.  “DIPPER!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the bottom of my heart, F#*& this chapter. Moses, I should NOT have entered the fae into this story. I spent SO long staring at the blinking cursor on a blank word document. I could not think of how Stan would trick these guys. I finally just went with the only con I 100% know how to pull that could be done in a quick session. I legitametely went ahead and wrote about the McGucket’s arrival last week because I could not think of how to write the beginning of this stupid chapter. Blurgh. I don’t like it but it’s up now and I can move on. Finally.
> 
> Three card monte was the con, btw. Stan has a marked deck. The key of this particular con is that the queen is almost never on the actual board. Also, the green creature was a dryad named Rosemaris. It never came up.
> 
> Lastly, sorry this is a little shorter than usual. I'll get the next one up as soon as I can :)


	16. I'd Bet My Life On You

\-------------------------------------   
\- |D | I | P | P | E | R | -   
\-------------------------------------

Mabel was being pulled towards the portal. That was the only thing Dipper could focus on in the chaos of their failure. She had shot her Grappling Hook at their Grunkle and against all logic, he had caught it.

For some reason, logic always seemed to fall apart in this room. Everytime he was in this dumb place the choice he’d chose to make would be wrong.

So now he forgot logic and acted on instinct and heart which told him to grab his twin. He twisted through the air and hooked his left leg around the wires connected to the central lever. He reached forward and snagged the edge of Mabel’s sweater. Thank  _ God _ she was always wearing a sweater.

He secured his grip on her and pulled her back into his chest. He got his other free hand around the grappling gun and jerked it up and back as hard as he could. The rope grew taut for a second before Stanley’s lower half was emerging from the portal and flying back towards them.

“Shooting Star is caught by her constellation!” Bill cackled.

He was going to punch that triangle in the nose. His Grunkle had gotten to do it in the future so it was only fair Dipper got to do it now.

Dipper released his hold on the grappling gun and reached for the cords his leg was wrapped around. He used it to pull himself and Mabel back down. Mabel was trying to draw the grappling hook back in and pull Stan with her. He was out of the portal but not free of it’s pull yet. A wild glance around the room showed that Emma-May and Tate had made their way to the opposite wall. Fiddleford was fighting Larry while Bill was trying to reach Mabel and Dipper. 

“Emma!” He shouted with a cracking voice, “push the red button and turn those keys!” Emma got her arm around her son and hefted him into the air. She bolted across the vast room in three steps and slammed her fist on the buttons.

Bill possessed Ford pushed himself up from the floor with a grin that stretched too wide for his face. His glasses were cracked and sat askew on his nose. His cheek was bleeding and dirty. Stanley was hovering in the air a few feet away from him. His Grunkle seemed to notice that his brother was coming with ill intent and used the forward momentum of the grappling hook to glide over his head. Ford’s arms swung upwards and caught Stanley by his leg. 

Mabel shrieked as Ford brought a knife up. Dipper’s own shout got caught in his throat. “No! Grunkle Stan!”

Without any rhyme or reason the portal was suddenly not glowing. Dipper and Mabel both collided hard with the dirt floor as gravity turned itself back on. They scrambled upright as quickly as they could to see Stan decking Ford hard in the face while Fiddleford was supporting himself on the lever. His hand was flat on the button and he was slumped over. Larry was lying on the floor with vacant eyes. The memory gun was broken on the floor.

Dipper stumbled his way to his Grunkle and Great Uncle and nearly fell by the time he reached them. 

“You kid’s okay?” Stan asked gruffly as he straightened. He had a wild look in his eyes and was eyeing Ford warily. He’d decked him hard enough to knock him out, apparently. How had Grunkle Stan managed to punch Bill again?

Mabel nodded and wheezed. Her left hand was rubbing her side while her right hand still had a tight grip on the grappling hook. 

“I gotta get one of those.” Stan mumbled. He pat them both on the shoulders and limped towards Fiddleford. “You okay, Fidds?” The inventor nodded and straightened his glasses. He remained leaning against the lever though. “That your wife and kid?” He asked after a moment.

Emma-May had a death grip on her son and was staring at the portal with wide eyes. Her hair had broken free of it’s braid and made her look more intense somehow. 

“Emma,” Fiddleford sputtered. He straightened and took a stumbling step towards them. Stan caught him before he fell and helped him upright. 

“Easy, buddy.” 

Emma-May closed the distance between them and relaxed her hold on Tate a little so he could sit on her hip. She wrapped her now free left hand around Fiddleford’s upper arm. 

“That was so cool!” Tate squealed suddenly. Dipper snorted and tried to hide the sound behind his hand. Stan gave him an unamused look. Mabel snickered and laced her hand through his.

Dipper found himself inhaling sharply at the contact. His body sagged and he suddenly realized how  _ tired _ he was. They’d nearly lost their minds! Would forgetting himself have made him forget Mabel? Would there have been anything left? Oh god, they’d almost lost Stan and Mabel to the portal. What if he hadn’t been fast enough? Would he have been able to get it back on? Would it have created a rift? Would Bill have escaped? What if-

“Dippy-Dop.” Mabel booped his nose and poked his cheek. “Come back to me. You’re muttering to yourself and you’ve got that stress wrinkle.” She poked his forehead. “We’re good. We were awesome and have once again foiled the giant dorito. We probably shouldn’t hang down here.” She looked over his shoulder and grimaced. “We uh, kinda forgot that Bill can look through triangles.”

“You four head up stairs. Stanley and I can get Ford and Larry out of -”

“That’s a terrible idea.” Mabel stated at the same time Emma shook her head. “We’re sticking together.”

“Let’s get Great Uncle Ford and Larry out of here first. They’re the most dangerous.” Dipper offered. He was still holding Mabel’s hand and didn’t particularly feel like letting go. 

She’d almost gone through the portal. He’d almost lost her. It had taken Grunkle Stan thirty years to get Ford back. Oh god, he couldn’t have lasted that long. He felt sick even thinking about it.

Mabel squeezed his hand painfully tight. “Stop drifting, Dipping Sauce.” She whispered to him. 

“Oh,” Grunkle Stan jumped a little and reached into his pocket. “I almost forgot. I got the stone things.” He passed them to Dipper.

They were warm and smooth and seemed to change colors in his hands. Five of them. All perfect. They could finish the spell.

“Change of plans. Can you five watch these two while Mabel and I finish the spell?”

Fiddleford nodded. Emma looked uncertainly at the giant inactive portal. 

Stan raised a hand. “Hold up, kiddo. You’re not going without me.”

Dipper could work with that.

\-------------------------------   
\- |S | T | A | N | -   
\-------------------------------

They made their way through the empty house quietly. Stan left the flashlight with Fiddleford and took the knife from his unconscious brother. He’d use his brass knuckles over a knife but he felt better having multiple options. The kids were following him quietly. He didn’t like how silent they were. It wasn’t natural for them. He didn’t care for silence at the moment. Not when that… thing, was still lingering in his memory. It had been too large, with too many tentacles and eyes and-Moses. He couldn’t think about it. He’d already had too much nightmare fuel without adding that thing to his pile. Urgh.

“You two always surrounded by trouble or is it just a Gravity Falls thing?”

There was another moment of silence before Dipper answered. “I think it’s more of a vacation thing.”

Mabel snorted. “Yep! We thrive on chaos.” 

“ _ You _ thrive on chaos. I’m orderly and reasonable.”

“I am a god of destruction.” Mabel laughed. Stan felt his lips quirk up.

“I imagine. I’ve only known you two for a week and I can say you’re both agents of chaos.” He pushed the front door open and motioned for them to walk outside. “Still, glad you two can fight.” 

“We learned on the field.” Mabel snorted. “We had to run from the cops on our second day in Gravity Falls. Future you taught us how to throw a punch.” Her eyes wrinkled at the corners from the size of her smile. Dipper laughed and pulled a moonstone out of his pocket. 

“I got most of my lessons from a few Mantaurs.”

“Man-you know, what? I’m not going to ask.” He leaned against the wall and kept his eyes on the bare land in front of the shack while Dipper got to work. His mind drifted off to monstrosities in the portal and his failed conversation with his brother.

“You’re frowning, Grunkle Stan. Stop thinking sad thoughts.” Mabel poked him in the side and pouted. Dipper had finished his first stone and motioned for them to follow him around the house. 

“‘M not thinking sad thoughts. Just thinking.”

Mabel gave him a pointed look. “Then why did your face get all sad?”

He ignored the question. “You did good earlier, pumpkin. Thanks for the hook.”

She stared at him a moment longer than necessary to let him know she was aware he was changing the subject. “You gave it to me. It’s my favorite thing next to Waddles. But he’s not a thing, he’s my bud.”

“The pig, right?”

She beamed. “Right!”

“How’d you get the stones from the fae?” Dipper inquired as he carved a circle into the wood of the house. He placed the stone at the center and mumbled something over it. Both the stone and circle started to glow. 

“I conned ‘em at a game of cards.” He shrugged and followed after Dipper. “About the only useful thing I could do.”

“What are you talkin’ ‘bout?” Mabel asked with a sassy hand on her hip. “Only useful thing?”

“Pumpkin, you know. I’m -”

“Grunkle Stan!” Mabel snapped and that alone made him stop. He hadn’t heard her use a tone that even came near to anger. He hadn’t thought she could. She wasn’t a particularly big girl but something about her tone and stance was suddenly terrifying. It was like Ford. He was the most unintimidating nerd on the planet until he was peeved. Then he became deadly and seemed to crackle with energy.

“Don’t you  _ dare _ finish that sentence.” She continued with seething eyes. “You are not those terrible things people said about you! You are not, have never been, and will never be, useless,” she continued on louder when he made to interrupt, “OR worthless!”

“How can you know that?” He demanded, suddenly angry himself. This bubbly girl who was smart and creative had  _ no _ idea what it was like in his life. She may have been through some sort of apocalypse thing but she didn’t live his life. She had only known him for a week or so. (It felt like a life time already.)

“Because I  _ know  _ you.” She stated with a stamp of her foot. “You’re brave, loyal, kind, and great at puns. You’re brilliant and you don’t let anyone know it. You’re gross in an old man way but you mostly use that as a con.”

He felt his body deflate. Of course. It wasn’t him. It was never him. It was future Stan who could punch dinosaurs and demons. Not him. “That’s a different Stan. One who has a house and a family.” One he was  _ fiercely _ jealous of.

Mabel rolled her eyes at him and grabbed his hand from where he had it fisted at his side. She brushed her finger against his bronze knuckles and looked up at him.

“It’s an older you who has been told he was worthless more times. I  _ know _ you. You’re one of my favorite people.”

“Kid, you hung out with a con man. What makes you think he didn’t just con you?” Every iteration of Stan could apparently, for a short while, con people into thinking he was worthwhile.

“We were inside your mind.” Stan unashamedly jumped as Dipper’s voice joined the conversation. Mabel beamed at her twin and snatched his hand in her free one. 

“You were what?” He didn’t know much but he was pretty sure no version of himself would be okay with that invasion. Especially not from kids. There was not a lot of G rated stuff in his life. Drug running tended to lead to a violent and dangerous life. Add in a pa who liked to beat you when you stepped out of line and there were a lot of bruises. How’d old him mask all that?

Or had he?

“Bill tried to steal the combination to a safe from your memory. He went in your head and the only way we could stop him was to follow him inside.” Dipper clarified.

Mabel shrugged. “Point is we know you. We know about your past and problems. With everything I know about you, I can say without crossing any fingers that you are not worthless.”

He exhaled slowly and decided that today was just a day he was apparently meant to be vulnerable. If he knew one thing about Mabel it was that she didn’t back down. 

Besides, he felt safer with these kids than Ford.

“I hear ya but it’s-”

Mabel squeezed his hand. “I don’t mind telling you any time you need to hear it.” She looked pointedly at her brother. “Dipper put that last stone in.”

Her brother grinned toothily and stuck the final stone in place. There was a crackle of energy and a wall of force sprang out from the shack. It knocked the breath out of Stan’s lungs as a multi colored shimmery shield surrounded the mystery shack. Runes decorated the force field and then it faded from view.

“Ha!” Dipper shouted and pumped his fist in the air. “Victory!”

“Did it work? Is Ford safe now?”

Dipper nodded frantically while Mabel started jumping in place. 

“Unicorn’s may suck but their hair is mega ultra plus powerful!” She squealed and clapped her hands. Dipper snorted fondly and grabbed Mabel’s arm. 

“You’re a nut. Come on back inside.” Mabel snagged Stan’s wrist and tugged him after them. They all jogged into the house and Stan found it easier to breathe. The air didn’t feel as heavy. It actually reminded him of the unicorn grove. As much as he disliked the unicorn’s themselves, the grove had been fantastic. Light and magical and relaxing.

Stan took a moment to secure the door before following them back to the elevator. It was a quick ride down and then they were in the control room again. 

The portal loomed in front of them and Stan felt his heart start to hammer. There were monsters on the other side of that thing. It made his breath catch in his throat to look at it. 

\-------------------------------   
\- |F | O | R | D | -   
\-------------------------------

Ford sat up and realized for the first time in what seemed like forever, that his mind wasn’t buzzing. There was no foreign humm in his mind. It was just his own thoughts and blessed silence.

Bill was gone?

Stanley! 

He’d been sucked into the portal! The nightmare realm! Oh god, what horrors were happening to him? What was Bill doing to his brother? What other monsters had joined him? He had to get up. He had to get Stanley back!

He staggered to his feet with a gasp of alarm only to be shoved back down by Fiddleford’s foot. 

“Stay on the ground, Stanford. I reckon you’re yourself again but I want to be certain before we let you loose down here.” He blinked up at Fiddleford and tried to understand what was going on.

There was a ding behind them which meant the elevator had just arrived. 

“We got it!” Came Dipper’s cheerful voice. Fiddleford removed his foot and straightened up. The two twins rounded the corner and Stanley was right behind them. He had a cut on his cheek and was dirty but… he was here?

Ford shot forward like a bullet and nearly knocked Dipper over. Mabel caught him as Ford rammed into Stanley. He wrapped his arms around his stiff brother and tugged him into a tight and fierce hug. 

“I told you not to go to the gate!” He gasped. His grip tightened and he buried his head in his twin’s neck. He somehow smelled exactly like Ford remembered from their teenage years. Stale sweat, cigarettes, and toffee nuts. “What would I have done if it had gotten you?”

“Better me than all of you.” Stanley muttered as his hand came up and gave Ford’s back an awkward pat. Ford growled a little and pushed himself closer.

“Stop with that nonsense.” He snapped. “I won’t let you pay for a mistake I made. Your life was at risk!”

“How did you even find out?” Stanley muttered with a flush warming his cheeks. The twins were gaping at each other but Ford didn’t care. Stanley was real and solid against him and nothing else mattered. 

Oh. Stanley didn’t know. He didn’t realize. 

Ford pulled back far enough to see his twin’s face. “Bill released me just long enough to watch you disappear in.” He swallowed. “I didn’t know if you-”

Stanley’s eyes shot back to him and his expression darkened. “That  _ bastard _ .”

“How about we all head on upstairs?” Fiddleford’s voice echoed around the room but Ford barely heard it. He didn’t even register the others exiting until it was just him and Stanely in the middle of the room.

“You could have died!” He choked on the words and felt his legs give out. Stanley had a knife wound, a gunshot wound, he had been beaten and abused and lived through all of it. Stanford had nearly been the one to kill him.

Oh god. Oh god. OhgodOhgodOhgodOhgodOhgod-

Stanley shook him hard enough that his teeth rattled.

“Cut it out, Poindexter. I coulda died every second of every damn day. You can’t think like that or you’ll go completely crazy. We cut that bastard’s hold on you. Do you still feel him?” Ford shook his head and gaped at his brother. That didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. How could Stanley not see that?

“He’s gone but-what does it matter?”

“What does it  _ matter? _ ” Stanley looked furious. “We just risked our lives to get that piece of shit out of your head and now you’re saying it doesn’t matter? Fuck you!”

Why could he  _ never _ say what he wanted? He used to be able to communicate with Stanley with nothing but a few eyebrow gestures. Now, even with the entire english language on his side, he couldn’t even tell his twin that he was scared.

“Damn it, Stanley, it would have been my fault!”

“What would have?” His twin bellowed in annoyance. 

Ford blinked and tried to understand how Stanley still wasn’t getting this. “Your death. How could I have lived if I’d killed you?”

Stanley shook his head in utter exasperation. “Sweet Moses, I’m not dead, Poindexter.”

“I know! But I almost got you killed!”

“For fucks sake.” Stanley pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled. “Here’s the thing, you didn’t do it. I brought you down here knowing that yellow jackass could possess you. I got near the damned portal after you plainly said don’t do that. I then got back, punched you out, and helped put up some sort of unicorn barrier. It has been a really long day and I want some dinner.” He pushed himself up right and held out a hand for Ford. “Come on. Let’s eat and get some sleep.”

“I’m sorry.” He couldn’t believe how easy it was to say. He’d been so scared to even think the words and now they were real and they were hanging in the air between them. 

“Nothin to apologize for. Like I said, Poindexter, I’m not dead. It wasn’t your fucking fault.”

Ford shook his head and grabbed his hair. He still wasn’t being understood. “No, I’m  _ sorry. _ I… I’ve messed up so many times. I-I should have run after you. I shouldn’t have let pa kick you out. I should have stopped him. I should have tried to find you.” He blinked back hot tears that were trying to force their way down. “I should have trusted you over Bill. I shouldn’t have put you all at such-”

He was cut off by Stanley’s arms wrapping around him. His twin jerked him into his chest in a tight embrace and for the first time in what felt like decades, Ford could finally breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost at the end of the story :)


	17. Although we were miles away We were infinite (There was no time in those days)

**August 31 2012**

“Come  _ on _ , Dipper! I just want to go for one last walk around before Grunkle Stan gets down here!” Dipper looked up from where he was trying to copy a few notes from Great Uncle Ford’s journals before they threw them in the bottomless pit. It was freaking him out a little to think they’d be gone forever. It had been his idea and he entirely agreed that they needed to get rid of the journals… He just didn’t want to lose anything he might need. 

Mabel tugged on his arm eagerly and pointed towards the door. “Come on!” She jumped in place, “Jeff owes me a jar of jam for beating him at go fish.”

Dipper huffed out a fond breath and stood up.

“Go on, dude, I’ll cover you.” Soos gave them a thumbs up and padded out of the room. Dipper watched him go with a slight pang in his chest. He was going to miss that guy. He was going to miss them all so much. They’d largely avoided thinking about it but they were going home tomorrow.

Mabel caught his hand and dragged him through the kitchen. She stopped abruptly and he collided with her. Grunkle Stan was in the kitchen in front of the stove. He was frowning at the burner’s like he didn’t quite understand what it was. 

“ _ Oh no. _ ” Mabel whispered the words and clutched Dipper’s hand tighter. 

Dipper took the lead. “Grunkle Stan?” He called as calmly as he could. “How ya doing?” 

Grunkle Stan turned towards them slowly and Dipper’s breath caught in his throat. He recognized the confused, innocent stare in their Grunkle’s eyes. It was the same way he’d looked after the memory gun. They’d seen that blank, confused, gaze multiple times since then. It never failed to be terrifying. Each time Dipper couldn’t help but wonder if he’d get his memories back. 

He’d been so ecstatic when Mabel’s stupid scrapbook had worked. He’d cried and he hadn’t been ashamed. 

“Dipper? Dipper?!” Grunkle Ford’s voice came from the direction of the study and both twins snapped their heads over to look at him. 

Ford walked into the room with a large smile and a perk in his step. He beamed when he saw the twins and straightened his glasses. “Ah, there you are, Dipper my lad, and Mabel too! Would you two- whatever’s wrong?” Mabel pointed at the stove and Great Uncle Ford finally turned his head and noticed his twin. 

It broke Dipper’s heart to see. Their Great Uncle’s face instantly crumpled in the wrong way and his shoulders dropped. Dipper had seen the man blasted by Bill at point black range and come out not looking as hurt. Only Grunkle Stan could make his strong Great Uncle look pained.

“Stanley?” Ford maneuvered around the kitchen towards his twin and stretched a trembling hand towards him. “How are you doing?” 

“Stanley?” Grunkle Stan mouthed back. “Who’s Stanley?”

Ford reached his twin and grabbed his arm gently while the twins watched breathlessly. Stan didn’t make any move to shake his brother off so that was good at least. Dipper had seen that happen the day before and it had  _ hurt. _

“You’re Stanley. My twin.” Ford pulled him around so they were facing each other with exceedingly gentle hands. “Stanley Filbrick Pines. I’m Stanford Filbrick Pines. You’re in our kitchen. Does any of this sound familiar?”

Stanley shook his head and his lips drooped into a frown. “No… I don’t remember?” 

“That’s fine, Stanley. We’ll remind you of it.” He glanced at the table that the twins were in front of. The summer scrapbook was sitting on it. Mabel had spent an entire day filling in the blank pages with additional memories for Grunkle Stan. She’d borrowed a few pictures from Great Uncle Ford and had plans for even more pages that she would add. Dipper had seen the preliminary designs for them and they were going to be great. He really wished it was for a happier project.

“You two can go on outside.” Ford said as he gently led Stan to the chairs. “I’ll handle it. Don’t worry yourselves. We’ll have him right as rain in time for the bonfire.” Ford’s words sounded confident enough but Dipper could easily read the alarm in his eyes.

“Alright.” Mabel tugged him out the door and he went without any complaints. She led him out of the Mystery Shack’s yard and to the edge of the woods before she released his hand and dropped in front of a tree. She wrapped her arms around her legs and buried her head in her knees.

Dipper dropped to his knees beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. He felt useless and cold and scared. He wanted to fix it but he had no idea how. Mabel was the one that made impossible things happen. She was the Shooting Star. She was the one that wished so hard that things just happened.

Dipper was the pine tree. He wasn’t sure what that meant but he knew he couldn’t make impossible things happen.

“I hate this.” She whispered so quietly he could barely hear. “I keep thinking he’ll stop forgetting but…”

“He’s gotten better.” Dipper pointed out. He knew Mabel didn’t want him to try and fix the problem but he couldn’t stop himself from trying. “McGucket thinks that he’ll have fewer and fewer episodes until they stop altogether.”

“But McGucket’s still forgetting things!” Mabel exclaimed. She lifted her head out of her knees and there were already tears streaking down her cheeks. “How can he know it’ll get any better?”

“Because that’s all we have?”

Mabel dropped her head back into her knees and sighed. “You don’t get it. It’s  _ my _ fault.”

Alarm made Dipper’s body feel cold. “No it’s-”

“Yes it is!” She slammed her fist into the dirt. “I gave Bill the stupid rift! I spent four days in that stupid fake world and let everyone else suffer!” She sniffled and wiped her hand across her face before letting it drop to the ground.

“That was my fault too,” Dipper rushed, “I didn’t tell you what was going on and that was stupid in hindsight because you could have helped and we could have stopped it all before-”

Mabel put a hand over his mouth. Her eyes were wide and looked almost frightened. “Dipper,” She whispered in shock, “promise to hear me out?”

He nodded his head in confusion and she removed her hand from his mouth. She lifted her other hand and he felt his mouth drop open. 

“Wh-”

She shook her head. “Hear me out.” She set the Time Tape between them and grabbed his arm. “We can use this to change it. We can change  _ everything _ .” 

“Where did you get that?” How long had she had it? They could have really used that!

“It was just laying there,” She motioned to a spot by her side, “but that doesn’t matter! We could change it!”

His brow wrinkled in confusion and something like hope bubbled up in his gut. “We could stop Weirdmeggedon?”

Mabel shook her head. “No, that’s not good enough.” She waved her hand through the air again. “We have to go back further. If we just stop Weirdmeggedon then my two broken teacups are still fighting. We have to stop Ford from falling into the portal. We could get them back together and then-”

“Mabel, that’s  _ so _ dangerous!” Dipper choked. “We could ruin everything! We could make it so we were never born! And what about this summer?”

“Psshnaw.” She said dismissively. “We wouldn’t tell anyone who we are. You can make the time rules we should follow and we’ll stick to them. Besides, it’s not like our parents weren’t born back then. They’d already be alive and Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford weren’t in their lives. We’ll be fine.” She picked the tape up and Dipper knew he’d already lost her.

Problem was, he didn’t want to argue. He didn’t want Great Uncle Ford to have spent thirty years in the multiverse. He didn’t want Grunkle Stan to lose his memory. He didn’t want them to have spent forty years apart. He didn’t want all of them to be so covered in scars. He didn’t want that blank look in Stan’s eyes or to hear Ford screaming in his sleep.

“We have to be  _ so _ careful, Mabel. We’ll need to gather supplies and make a plan first.” He talked slowly and tried to make his face as serious as he could. His hands were shaking.

She beamed immediately. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her look so happy. “We’ll fix it all, Dipper! It’ll be perfect!” 

He really hoped they didn’t regret this.

\-------------------------------------

\- |M | A | B | E | L | -

\-------------------------------------

Dipper was fidgeting at the coffee table. He’d sketched, erased, and resketched an image of a fairy ten times now and he’d pretty much worn through the page he was trying to draw on. Mabel had decided she’d let him have the first dozen times but her patience was pretty much gone. She’d forgotten how  _ loud _ of a sketcher her brother could be.

He erased it for the eleventh time and Mabel would have sworn she could actually hear her patience snap.

“What is it, Dipper?” 

He glanced up at her with wide eyes. His hat was tilted to the right which just went to show how unhappy he was. She could understand him being a little blue, their plan hadn’t gone off without a fairly big hitch, but they’d gotten the unicorn barrier up. Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford were talking in the basement right now, and they’d made Grunkle Stan feel better. There were more wins than not wins right now.

Dipper chewed on the tip of his pencil which was a sure sign he was scared. She shimmied her way over to him on the floor and plopped back against the couch. Her yarn had rolled under the recliner when she wasn’t looking and it had tangled itself around the table legs as well. She set about rerolling it while she fixed her brother with a pointed look. 

“‘S nothing.” Dipper mumbled and bent back over his sketch.

Nope. Not gonna work for Mabel today. They had turned today around. She had saved Grunkle Stan and Dipper had saved her. The hug train was coming into the station downstairs (and if it wasn’t she was going to tie her uncles up until they hugged it out) and Fiddleford was relaxing with his wife and son.

“Dippy-Dop,” she grabbed his cheeks with her hands and turned his head to look at her. “What is it that has you all worried?”

“Mabel, we can’t get home.” He blurted the words out like she’d expected him to but he had not blurted out what she expected. She had thought he was upset about being attacked. But oh boy, he was upset about a  _ problem _ .

Dagnabit.

“Okay, that’s a good point. What exactly happened?”

Dipper sighed and straightened up. He pushed his journal aside and crossed his arms over his chest. “I grabbed your hand. You had the end of the time tape and I was holding the base. We pulled it out to the right number of days and years and released it. We were encased by the bright light and then there was  _ pain. _ ” His eyes slipped shut and he grimaced. Mabel nodded along. She remembered all that. There had also been a sense of wrongness.

“I landed in the snow all by myself without the time tape. I don’t remember letting go of it or you. I was just suddenly… Not holding either.”

She blew a long and noisy breath out. “Weird. I landed on concrete in the room Grunkle Stan was locked in.” She paused and let her eyes drift up. “The landing part was weird, right? I don’t remember that happening the other times.”

“It didn’t.” He exhaled slowly and set his pencil down with deliberate movements. “I landed right as Great Uncle Ford came outside.”

Mabel tilted her head and blew out her cheeks. “I wonder why we got teleported to them?”

Dipper didn’t meet her eyes. “I think… I think we need to face the fact that we might not be able to get back home.”

“What?” She could feel her face dropping into shock but she couldn’t stop it. Not get home? That was ridiculous. That was giving up. That was not part of the plan.

Dipper nodded his head and refused to meet her eyes even when she moved so she was right in front of him. Uh oh. This was real.

“Dipper,” she pulled a wrinkled sheet of paper out of her pocket and passed it to him, “remember this?”

_ Totally Awesome Time Rules: Version 4 _

  1. _We don’t use our real names_
  2. _We avoid contact with people we know in the future as much as possible_
  3. _We don’t tell anyone that we’re from the future_
  4. _We don’t let Great Uncle Ford or Grunkle Stan know we’re their family_
  5. _We don’t let them know the future_
  6. _We don’t leave Gravity Falls_
  7. _We stick together no matter what_
  8. _If the Time Police show up we tell the truth and win Globnar_
  9. _We don’t make any deals with Bill_
  10. _We can’t meet our parents_
  11. _We get back to 2012_



They’d both signed their names at the bottom of it. “We’ve broken pretty much all but the last of these. I’m proud of us ‘cause I don’t like rules but we are not breaking the last four.”

“What if we don’t have a choice?” He demanded hotly. “I don’t know what you expect me to do here.”

She shook her head and booped his nose. “I expect you to find a way like you always do.” Dipper’s eyes got big and he looked utterly flabbergasted.

“Are you two alright?” Fiddleford peeked around the corner and looked at the twins. “I thought I heard some upset voices…” Mabel smiled while Dipper didn’t bother. 

“Just peachy.” Dipper mumbled.

Mabel frowned at him when an idea suddenly occurred to her. “Hey, you’re good at inventing things!”

Fiddleford smiled and raised an eyebrow. “I reckon I’m decent at it.” 

“Ever make a time machine?” Fiddleford’s eyebrows shot up.

“Pardon?”

Mabel shrugged. It wasn’t that unusual with everything else they’d asked of him in the last week. “A time machine. Dip-Dop and I lost ours.”

“You’re leaving?” Mabel’s stomach instantly twisted with a large amount of guilt as her Grunkle spoke. She hadn’t seen him come up. 

“Uh, not yet. We can’t though and we’d like to be able to.” She explained as well as she could. She had meant to break the news to her younger Grunkle slowly. He had abandonment issues and she didn’t want to be the cause of  _ more. _

Grunkle Stan’s face was carefully neutral and Mabel instantly hated the expression. Great Uncle Ford was standing near enough to him that their arms were touching and she wanted to be happy about that but it was impossible with such a guarded look in her Grunkle’s eyes. At least Great Uncle Ford only looked confused.

“You lost your time machine?” The scientist asked carefully. It was his problem solving tone which was great and bad. Grunkle Stan stiffened and his twin shuffled forward without noticing. “What did it look like?”

“A tape measure.” Dipper supplied. He flipped his journal shut and sat back. “A yellow and black tape measure.” He shrugged. “It didn’t look like anything special. We’d used one a few times in our time. The problem is it didn’t work like normal when we got here. We were separated, which had never happened before, and neither of us had the time tape.”

“Fascinating,” Ford mumbled. He shuffled in his pockets and pulled out a small notepad that he started to write in. Grunkle Stan was still standing stiffly and staring at the wall over Mabel’s head. She didn’t like it. She picked her way across the floor carefully and quietly until she was next to him. She grabbed his hand in her own and felt a little bad when he jumped. Fear flashed across his face until he recognized it was her touching him. 

She kind of forgot this was her younger Grunkle. He hadn’t had thirty or so years to calm down from a life on the run. He still expected people to hurt him. She should expect it. She had found him after his kidney had been taken.

(It might be wrong to hate people but there were some people she really, really, did.)

She wanted to say something but she stubbornly kept her mouth shut. She watched Ford take notes of all the details Dipper could recall. He drew a rough sketch of the circuits he’d seen for Fiddleford’s benefit.

“We’ve lost them to nerdland, haven’t we?” Stan finally muttered. Mabel nodded sagely.

“We should make dinner. I’d like some Stancakes.”

“Stancakes, huh?” He glanced down at her and there was a hint of a smile on his chapped lips. She beamed up at him.

“Yes please, with extra glitter!”

“You’re crazy, pumpkin.”

Her smile grew so wide it was almost painful. She was going to miss this version of her Grunkle. She loved him - she loved any version of Stan- but this one was young and not so Grunkly. Still… She really missed her old Grunkle. She missed all of them and the idea of not going back was scary in a not fun way. 

* * *

Mabel rolled onto her side and looked at her twin. He was staring up at the ceiling and chewing on the collar of his shirt absently. 

“Dippy.” She sighed. “Stop chewing your clothes.”

“Wha?” He blinked and realized what he was doing. He spat the fabric out of his mouth sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Mabel shrugged. “It’s okay. Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?”

Dipper’s eyes went back to the ceiling. “That we haven’t completely fixed everything yet.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Mabel laid on her back and looked up at the ceiling as well. The mold spot above her bed was just starting to appear. That meant it was really old in the future. “I guess Great Uncle Ford still can’t leave the Shack without being possessed.”

“Yeah. I… well, I’m not sure, but I think we could probably boot Bill out.”

Mabel’s head tilted towards Dipper. “How?”

He didn’t look at her but his hand reached out in the gap between them. She took his hand. “I think the ritual Great Uncle Ford tried to do would work.”

_ Between "him and me." Grammar, Stanley.  _

_ I'll "grammar Stanley" you! You stuck up son of a gun! I mean come on! Ford  _

_ Don't jeopardize this, you idiot! Everything's on the line!  _

_ Her uncles attacking each other with thirty years of hurt feelings. Terror that Bill would come. The crushing feeling of failing. The fear of becoming that... _

She shook her head to dissipate the memory. “But, Dipper, we only have half the people for that.”

Dipper nodded his head. He brought his other arm up and tucked it under his head. It reminded her of nights spent star gazing with him back home. She hoped they’d get a chance to do that after the first night of school. They never saw much-it was too bright- but it was still fun. She’d like to show Waddles a few constellations.

“It’s like Great Uncle Ford said. The symbols don’t have to be literal, they can just be personality traits. The original inhabitants of Gravity Falls performed the ritual to get rid of Bill so it's not like it's limited to specific people. I’ve got a few ideas for the symbols but I’m drawing a blank on some of them.”

Mabel rolled over and sat up. She kept a grip on her twin’s hand. The house was no longer buzzing with the presence of Bill but she still didn’t like sitting in the dark like this. 

“Hit me with them.” 

Dipper sat up and pulled his journal out. He laid it between them and turned on his blue light. Mabel saw a list appear.

  1. Pinetree = Dipper
  2. Shooting Star = Mabel
  3. Six fingered Hand =Great Uncle Ford
  4. Spectacles = Old Man McGucket
  5. Shriner symbol = Grunkle Stan
  6. Star Eye = Little Gideon
  7. Ice = Wendy 
  8. Llama = Pacifica
  9. Question Mark = Soos
  10. Heart with a stitch= Robby



“Okay,” he said, “these are what the symbols were and who all was on it. The problem is the last five, ‘cause none of them are born yet.”

Mabel nodded. It was a problem. A pretty big one since they had lost their time machine.

“So my thought was what if we find people who fit the symbols?”

Mabel shrugged. “Sure.”

Dipper frowned at her unenthusiastic response. She shrugged again.

“I’m going to level with you,” she pat his shoulder, “I didn’t really understand this the first time around. This was your nerdy area. Just let me know who’s hand I need to hold. And please don’t make it another Lil’ Gideon situation.”

Dipper grinned sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” She looked at the list again. “Okay, the star eye. What’s that about?”

“Telepathy?” Dipper offered. “Or future telling? Or maybe the whole clairvoyance thing?”

Mabel’s eyes widened dramatically. “Oh! The Hand witch!”

“Her? Why?”

Mabel smacked her brother’s arm in excitement. “She totally told Grunkle Stan’s fortune!” 

Dipper looked convinced. “Why not. Can’t be any weirder than Lil’ Gideon.” He scribbled a note about the Handwitch next to Gideon’s name. She had a weird feeling in her gut she couldn’t quite place. It made her uneasy.

“Ice for a person cool under pressure.”

“Emma-May.” Mabel chirped. “She was awesome! Did you see her knock McBumbersnazzle away from Tate?”

The uncomfortable feeling grew and she fidgeted in her seat. Dipper noticed and gave her a concerned look as he jotted down Emma’s name.

“Llama?” She asked instead of answering his unvoiced question. 

“I really don’t understand what it’s about.”

“Llamas are nature’s greatest warriors.” Mabel stated with a broad smile as she parroted his words back at him. He looked confused but jotted that down. “So someone brave?”

Mabel’s blood ran cold as the hair on her arms stood up. The air felt charged with static. Something wasn’t right. Her eyes shot to the window while Dipper continued to write a few notes down. Her mouth popped open in shock and she jerked on Dipper’s hand.

“Dip-” She managed. “The window.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're REALLY close to the end now :D


	18. I can't tell where the journey will end

Her twin blinked up at her and turned his gaze to the window so slowly. She would have shook him if she wasn’t so startled. As was she just squeezed his hand tighter and tighter until he made a little ‘oh’ sound.

There was a giant eye staring in at them through the window of the attic. They had taken out the Bill eye the night they arrived. The eye that was staring at them now was not in the window but outside looking in. It was also red.

“What?!” Dipper sprang to his feet and dragged Mabel up with him. 

“I don’t know!” She squeaked. Dipper tugged her back a step and bent to grab his journal. 

“Is-” her twin stopped mid word as the giant eye blinked. 

“Do you think it’s Steve?” They’d only met the forest dwelling giant once and he hadn’t been particularly friendly or talkative. He’d thrown a handful of squirrels at her when she’d told him a joke. She was pretty sure his eyes were brown though.

“Steve has bark colored skin.”

Dipper was right. The possible giant was pale and pasty. Not at all bark like.

“Should we go investigate?” She asked. 

Dipper rounded on her with huge eyes. “I don’t know!”

There was a clatter on the steps behind them. They sprang back towards a pile of boxes and tried to hide themselves as two figures emerged at the top of the stairs. 

“Mabel and Mason Pines?” She couldn’t make out what they looked like from where she was hidden. Dipper was on the outside and he looked alarmed. Mabel was reeling because the man knew Dipper’s actual name. No one knew Dipper’s actual name. 

“We know you’re here.” There was a weird beep and then the footsteps drew closer. “Ah.” Gloved hands reached down and caught them both by the cuff of their shirts. They were hauled into the air so they were face to face with two masked figures in dark clothes. They had a lot of futuristic gadgets and smelled like smoke.

“Let us go!” Mabel demanded while Dipper aimed a kick for the person holding him.

“No.” The person holding Dipper gave him a shake. “We’re taking you with us.” He dropped a hand to his belt and pressed a button on one of his fancy looking gadgets. The world went bright and then they were standing on snow outside the Mystery Shack in their nightgowns. The Stanley Mobile was a few feet away.

And in front of them was probably the last person (thing?) she expected to see. 

“Time Baby?” She asked at the same time as her twin. He looked exactly the same as when she had last seen him during globnar except that he now had a scar at the center of his stomach. 

“Did you think we would let you change so much unchallenged?”

“We hoped?” Mabel straightened and put on her best smile. It was cold and she did not want to have a confrontation with the Time Titan in her makeshift night gown. It would seriously hamper her globnar style.

“But we already changed everything.” Dipper added. He caught hold of Mabel’s hand and gave it a squeeze. They’d figured out during their last time heist that you always held onto the things you wanted to travel with. Namely, each other.

“You have not changed your past, children.” Time Baby said slowly. “You traveled to the past in your own world and were stopped. We were informed of your intentions and considered them noble. A debt is owed to the Pines family for their part in destroying the demon Bill. I felt this would be sufficient payment for that debt.”

Mabel shared a look with her brother who looked every bit as confused. “Say what?” 

Time Baby exhaled and gave a weary sigh. “You found a time tape in the forest, correct?” Dipper nodded. “Were either of you aware that I attempted to stop Bill?”

Mabel shook her head. She hadn’t known most of what went down during Weirdmeggedon due to her bubble prison. Dipper also shook his head so she felt better about not knowing.

“I was unable to do so and yet the two of you managed to do so at great personal risk. My agents saw the anomalies you created when you attempted to time travel and arrested you. You explained your intentions to us and we permitted them on the grounds that you could not change your own past.”

“But,” Mabel blurted despite the painful grip Dipper had on her arm, “we changed things! We stopped the portal and saved everyone!”

“You did, child.”

It was so irritating to be called a child by a giant baby. 

“Then why are you saying we didn’t change the past?”

“Because this is not _your_ past. A second timeline has been created. One where the dream demon Bill has not gained access to our dimension. One where Stanford Pines did not fall through the portal and spend thirty years in the multiverse. One where Fiddleford McGucket did not ruin his mind and Stanley Pines did not spend his life pretending to be someone else.”

“An Alternate Universe?” Dipper asked slowly. Mabel was glad he seemed to understand because she certainly didn’t. 

“Correct.”

Dipper frowned. “So we didn’t change anything at all.” 

“Not in your world. You have changed the future of this new universe.”

Mabel dropped her eyes from the giant, glowing baby and thought it out. So when they tried to change the future they’d created a gigantic change in the future. Because of that they’d created a new universe?

Or maybe the moment they’d made the change the new universe had been created? Regardless, they were no longer in their own reality. That was a bit of a problem. 

“Did our other stints create an alternate reality?” Mabel asked after a moment.

“No. The changes you made then were minor or completely erased by my team.”

“So what now?” Dipper blurted. He tightened his grip on Mabel’s hand. She gave him a reassuring squeeze.

“Now we send you back to your own time and your own universe.” Time Baby smiled softly. “This universe will continue on. Your changes will be intact. You, however, cannot return to it.”

“But we’re not finished yet!” They exclaimed together. Panic gripped her throat and she had to blink back a sudden rush of tears.

They’d worked so hard! Wasn’t it going to matter at all?

“Our agreement was for one week. We allowed you several hours more.”

“I didn’t get a full week.” Dipper countered. “I was only here for four days.”

Time baby glared and for a moment the hourglass on his head started to glow. Mabel had an instant where she was certain they were going to die before the glow dissipated and the giant baby exhaled.

“You will be permitted to stay until tomorrow afternoon per our agreement. Say your goodbyes.”

“But we’re not finished.” Mabel insisted again. “Great Uncle Ford will still be attacked by Bill if he exits the house.”

“No.” Time Baby huffed with obvious annoyance. “I will seal the weak spot in your dimension and Bill will lose his connection. Unless Stanford Pines finds another rift or performs the ritual again he will no longer be plagued by Bill.”

Dipper chewed thoughtfully on his bottom lip. “Won’t that leave Bill alive?”

“There is only one Bill. When this time stream catches up to Bill’s death in your reality he will be no more.”

This was really complicated and it was making Mabel’s head hurt. It didn’t help that it was like two in the morning either. Grunkle Stan was going to freak out when he found out they were going to have to leave. And… they hadn’t actually changed anything in their world. Their Grunkle was still going to have memory problems. Weirdmeggedon would still have happened. Great Uncle Ford still spent thirty years in the Multiverse. Fiddleford would still have lost his family and have a broken mind. All the sad things hadn’t been erased at all.

They hadn’t fixed it. Not for their own world... Still, it was nice to know that there would always be a world where it was fixed. Where the sad things hadn't happened the same way. It was nice to know that somewhere in the multiverse her Grunkles would have those thirty years.

Her future wasn't so bad. She had her Grunkles even if they were a little broken. They had the Mystery Shack and the town and each other. The sad things didn't erase what they did have.

\--------------------------

-| S | T | A | N |-

\--------------------------

He woke up with a shiver and knew something was wrong. It was an instinct he’d honed over the last decade. Most of the time he woke up assuming something was going to go wrong but sometimes… 

He opened his eyes and tensed his body to spring away. 

He was in a bed? When was the last time he’d slept in a bed? 

“Stanley?” A hand brushed across his forehead and he sprang upright with a yelp. He opened his eyes and blinked through the morning bleariness. Stanford was sitting a few feet from him without his glasses on. His eyes were wide and he looked worried.

“Ford?”

“Are you okay? You were-”

“Nightmare.” He rubbed his hand down his face and exhaled. He had no idea what he’d been doing in his sleep but he could guess. It was probably the trunk. That was the first time he’d been shot. 

Ford’s hand settled on his arm. “You were asking not to be shot.” The grip on his arm tightened momentarily. Six fingers lightly brushed against his other shoulder. “Were you… were you dreaming about this wound?”

For a wild moment Stan thought about denying it. In an even wilder moment, he nodded his head. 

“Yeah. It was seven years ago. I got caught stealing some stuff from a gang. They shot me and locked me in a trunk to bleed to death.”

Ford’s lip trembled as his face fell. The brown eyes were flooded with tears and the grip on his arm was almost painful. He knew what his brother was going to say and he couldn’t hear it.

“Don’t apologize.”

Ford nodded and dropped his hand. He lowered his eyes and clasped his hands in his lap. 

“Will you stay?”

It was too early for Ford to make his heart stop. It sounded like his twin actually wanted him to stay. He couldn’t be hearing it correctly. It was pity. It couldn’t be anything else. He opened his mouth to say something - probably something mean - but his twin wasn’t finished.

“Please, I. I know I don’t have a right to ask but-” Ford stuttered to a stop and swallowed thickly. His hands twisted in his lap and Stan was vividly reminded of a much younger Ford. His brother was nervous. He was unsure about something. Was it him? Was Ford unsure of Stan’s reaction? Did he make his twin as nervous as Ford made him?

“I don’t want to lose you again. I failed to stand up when you were kicked out. I won’t be silent this time.” His brother lifted his head again and met his eyes. “I want you to stay. There’s so much here to learn. So many adventures to be had. I want to share them with you. I know that it won’t make up for what I’ve done but… Will you give me another chance?”

Ford’s hands were trembling and he was looking at Stan like he had the power to destroy Ford’s entire world. He looked as though he couldn’t imagine Stan would accept even though he desperately wanted him to. He looked as though he wasn’t offering Stan the one thing he wanted most in the entire world. It was enough to make him think he was still asleep or that he’d hit his head harder than he’d intended to. There was no way this was real. In the last twenty four hours his brother had not only apologized and hugged him, he’d also asked him to stay? It all pointed to serious head injury on Stan’s part. 

“What sorta adventures?”

“There’s a mine under the town. I think it might contain dinosaur remains. There’s a forest giant I’ve yet to meet. Sirens reside somewhere near the lake but I haven’t managed to catalogue them yet. There are ghost as well!” He rambled off at an ever increasing speed until his words were just a blur. 

“Whoa,” Stan’s hand shot out and grabbed Ford’s arm. “Calm down, buddy.”

“Please,” Ford’s hand grabbed his and squeezed. “I know that the twins are leaving but that doesn’t mean you need to?”

He’d gotten rusty at reading his twin. Years and change had made it difficult to know what was going on in Ford’s brilliant and eccentric head. Still… He could see the sincerity in his brother’s eyes. He could see the lines of genuine worry that etched across his face. He could see the slight tremble in his hands and the lack of hope.

He couldn’t quite swallow his pride but he couldn’t hurt his twin. So... “I’d expect to earn my keep.”

Ford’s eyes widened. “Earn your keep? Oh! Stanley, you’d be my partner.”

“Partners?” That was an incredible idea. 

“Yeah, partners. You’d aid in my research so you’d be entitled to share in my grant. That’s what paid for the house.” He waved his hand as he spoke and almost hit Stan’s injured side. He dodged it easily and found his lips quirking. 

“Put your glasses on, Poindexter.” He reached for where they were sitting on the side table and passed them to his twin. His brother shoved them on his face and looked back up. For a moment he expected to see a flash of yellow but they were Ford’s eyes. 

“Why?” He managed after too long a moment. He didn’t want it to be pity. He couldn’t imagine what else it might be though.

“You’ve been incredible this week, Stanley. You’ve known about the existence of the supernatural for what? A week? In that time you managed to fight the Gremoblin, block a demon, battle a group of unicorns, bargain with the fey, and out maneuver Bill.” His eyes widened as he spoke and Stan nearly choked. He hadn’t seen Ford look at him with something like wonder since they were children. It made his heart pound and ache. This had been the week from hell but he wouldn’t trade it. He’d had purpose and family.

There wasn’t anything else to say. He wouldn’t let his pride keep him from this. He’d just make damn sure to earn his keep.

“Then consider me your new partner.” He stuck his hand out and Ford wrapped his hand around it. 

* * *

“We have two hours until we’re sent back.”

It was Dipper that broke the news. Mabel had tried to start the sentence but her voice had broke and she started to cry. 

They were sitting at breakfast with everyone. He’d known it was coming but he didn’t expect it so soon. He was pretty sure the entire table could hear his heart actually break in two. 

Mabel was sitting next to him with pancake syrup on her cheek and tears in her eyes. He was wearing the sweater she made for him and he couldn’t look away from her. Emma-May and Tate looked confused while Fiddleford and Ford looked shocked. 

His hand was grabbed with sticky fingers. He closed his eyes and nodded.

“Noon?”

“Yeah.” Dipper’s voice cracked. “We uh, ended up getting a ride after all.”

“Well that’s good news. Your parents were able to pick you up?” Emma asked with a gentle tone. 

Stan got up abruptly and left the room. He couldn’t stay in the room and have the breakdown he could feel coming on. Not in front of all of them. This was going to hurt like hell. It wasn’t like being torn away from his family. He’d had a chance to see them again. (There had never been a chance regardless of what he said. He knew he’d never have made a million dollars.) 

Mabel and Dipper were going _away_. It’d be thirty years before he could see them again. That was as long as he’d been alive. It was a lifetime away. Thirty years without Mabel’s laughter and Dipper’s mumbling. Thirty years without their joint shenanigans. Thirty years without sweater warm hugs.

He made it to the hall before the tears started to fall. He got out the door and managed to shut it behind himself. He sat down heavily on the porch and looked at the Stanley Mobile that was still parked on the front lawn. 

He knew that they’d only come back for a temporary thing. They hadn’t intended to stay. They’d just wanted to fix a few things. Ford had probably gotten sucked into that portal thing downstairs. He didn’t know what had happened to himself but he knew it was bad. They’d stopped it. He should be happy.

It shouldn’t have hurt so damn much. He’d only known them for a week.

Why did it feel like he was losing his family all over again? They were never going to stay. They’d never been his. They’d always belonged to some other Stan. Some stupid future Stan who had a house and twin and money and _them._ Some stupidly lucky son of a gun who didn’t have any clue what he had.

(That couldn’t be true. No version of Stan would take family for granted. Surely.)

What was _wrong_ with him? Why did no one stick around? Why did he keep loving people who wouldn’t love him back? Why did he keep driving people away? 

“Hey.” He didn’t have to look to know that Mabel had just joined him on the porch. He didn’t expect her to lean against him. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. ‘S not your fault.” He shrugged and tried to hide the fact that he was crying. “This was the plan from the beginning, right? Stop Bill, save Ford, and go back home?”

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” He hadn’t expected Dipper to come outside. The boy sat next to him and mirrored his sister’s lean. “Thing’s end and it sucks.”

That was the damn truth, wasn’t it? Things ended and it sucked. Dreams, vacations, family… everything ended. It wasn’t their fault Stan was some kind of plague.

(His twin had held his hand this morning like when they were twelve and the beatings from their pa hurt so much more than normal. He’d asked him to stay. He was scared of a no.)

The tears fell heavier and he couldn’t stop the things. He rubbed his face gruffly and tried to make a complaint about the cold but his voice cracked. Mabel clung to him tighter and he wanted to sob like he hadn’t sobbed in twelve long years.

He managed to resist the urge and swallowed back the tears. He’d find a time when they weren’t around to cry. He needed them to leave happily. He had a feeling he knew what would make Mabel ecstatic.

“Ford asked me to stay.” 

Mabel squealed and it hurt so much to hear. She threw her arms around him and hugged him fiercely. He let his eyes slip close and tried to keep the tears in. 

“Can you make us a promise?” Dipper asked while Mabel nearly knocked him over with the power of her hug. He grunted in response and let himself wrap an arm around Mabel. It might be the last time for thirty years.

Apparently the grunt was good enough for Dipper. “In about twenty years your going to meet a kid named Soos. Take him under your wing, okay? He’s uh, pretty special.”

“Yes!” Mabel sobbed, “Find him and teach him your tricks. Wendy too!”

“You’ll meet her in-what was it?” he looked at Mabel who shrugged, “twenty sevenish years?”

“I don’t know.” 

Dipper frowned. “She’s Manly Dan’s daughter. You’ll know her when you meet her. They’re part of your family.” 

“Soos and Wendy, huh?” Both twins nodded. “I can do that.” He’d get Ford to help him. His twin had a better memory for that kind of thing.

They leaned into his sides and he allowed himself to put his arms around them. 

* * *

There was a giant baby in the center of the yard. His trip to Gravity Falls had been one extended trek into a world of weirdness. He was pretty sure that as of now, this was the weirdest thing he had seen in Gravity Falls.

Ford was on his right in a dark blue sweater with constellations stitched across the front and sleeves. The only one Stan recognized was the gemini. 

Fiddleford was on his twin’s right in his own sweater. It was a rich green with a laptop. Stan was still wearing his own sweater and a new scarf to match. 

“Come, children. The giant baby ordered. Mabel glared at him while Dipper nodded. Stan knelt down to give them a final hug.

“Kids,” he grunted, “you knuckleheads were nothin' but a nuisance and I'm glad to be rid of ya.” Mabel choked and wrapped her arms around him. Dipper hugged his chest.

“We’ll miss you too, Grunkle Stan! So much.”

Dipper released him and went towards Ford. Mabel held on a little longer. “Don’t forget,” she whispered in his ear for him alone to hear, “I love you so much. You’ve always got family, no matter what.”

She released him and went to give Ford similar treatment. Stan slowly rose and watched them. He wasn’t sure what to feel. Fiddleford went to give Dipper a hand shake but the teenager pulled him into a tight hug instead. They exchanged a few quiet words that made the inventor smile. Ford laughed at whatever Mabel said to them and then the two kids were walking away from them. Stan caught the sob that rose in his throat and shoved it deep down. He would not let the kids hear him sob.

They joined hands and stopped in front of the giant, glowing baby. He said something to them and then they were just… gone.

His legs were suddenly weak and he was sure he was going to fall. They were gone. They were gone and he was never going to see them again. He was alone. They were gone. They were gone. Theywere gone. Theyweregone.Theyweregone.Theyweregonetheywergone-

Ford’s arm looped around his shoulder and pulled him close. For the first time in a dozen years, Stan let his twin take his weight. He leaned against his older brother, his best friend, his _twin_ , and felt something that had been broken and ruined in his chest set to right. They were gone but this time… This time he may not be alone.

\--------------------------------------------

-| E | P | I | L | O | G | U | E |-

\--------------------------------------------

“I told you,” Stan laughed as he shoved his brother into the car, “I’m not cooking tonight.”

“I know you said that but I don’t understand why that means I can’t-”

“Because you melted the cast iron skillet last time.” He shut the door on his brother’s protest and walked around to the driver’s seat. He tugged it open and dropped into his seat. 

“It was an accident.” Ford grumbled. “And can we at least go to Yumberjacks?”

“Driver gets to decide the destination, Poindexter.” He shoved the key in the ignition and looked at his twin. He had a bruise on his cheek from their run in with the vampire bats yesterday. They’d gotten the samples Ford needed so it was a win even if Stan had lost his favorite brass knuckles in the tussle. His twin was pouting like a two year old. It made something fond and almost painful rise up in his chest to see.

He snorted to hide the mushy emotions and turned the key to start the key. The Stanley Mobile roared to glorious life. He pat the dashboard affectionately as he moved his hand to put it in gear.

“Well,” Ford grumbled with fake anger, “if I can’t choose the location then I’m picking the music.”

“I’ll mock you if it’s bad.” Stan pointed out as Ford fiddled with the knobs. His twin shrugged unimpressed.

_We’ll meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when. But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day._

“Vera Lynn?” He asked as the music crooned. 

Ford nodded and leaned back. His fingers tapped along to the beat. “I haven’t heard it since we were kids. Ma used to make Pa dance to this.”

Stan hummed noncommittally and backed the car up. He could remember those moments. He didn’t like to think about them too much. He’d rather focus on the future than the past. Ford, Shermie, the kids… They were what mattered now. 

_I know we’ll meet again some sunny day!_

He couldn’t help but smile. Yeah, they’d all meet again someday. It wouldn’t be long now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my _god_. It's finished. I did it! This story took on a life of it's own and went so far away from my original outline. It was supposed to be short and quirky and got long and emotional. I really identify with Stan and the lost/found family thing. I love how he goes from being basically kicked out of the place he's supposed to be safe but ends up making his own family with Soos, Wendy, and the twins. This was basically a love letter to him and the Gravity Falls community. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for your kind words and dedication to this silly story. It means the world to me that you all took the time to stop by and leave a comment or kudos. I had a blast with this tale and love this fandom sooo much. 
> 
> Until next time, this is TongueTiedRaven signing off.


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